


Master Crowley

by DemonsAreMoreInteresting



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Amnesia, Angst, Aziraphale likes book forts, BAMF Crowley (Good Omens), Body Worship, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Butt Plugs, Choking, Cock Warming, Crowley doesn't remember Aziraphale, Crowley has a plant named Hamlet, Cuddling & Snuggling, Face-Fucking, Facials, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hell wins, Human Furniture, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Master Crowley, Master/Servant, Master/Slave, Masturbation, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Nipple Worship, Oral Sex, Penis Gags, Possessive Crowley, Riding, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Slavery, Slave Aziraphale, Slavery, Spanking, Testicle Clamps, Thigh Fuck, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Watersports (mentions and threats), after some angst and porn and fluff, arm restraints, but it will all end well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2020-03-05 08:46:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18825238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonsAreMoreInteresting/pseuds/DemonsAreMoreInteresting
Summary: Hell has won.Angels have become the demons' sex slaves to be used and hurt as their masters see fit. Aziraphale doesn't know what happened to his best friend he last saw at the air base. But one hundred years later a demon emerges. They call him Crawly and he had his mind wiped of the events after the Fall. Is that still Aziraphale's friend or is Crowley truly dead?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am writing this to deal with my own issues. If mentions of non-consensual sex or torture trigger you in any way, please don't read.
> 
>  _Update January 2020:_ The fantastic sweetcrispyjesus started correcting and beta-reading the fic <3 (4 first chapters done so far).

 

Heaven had lost.

It was not an option any angel had considered. They were the  _ good  _ ones, they deserved to win. They were  _ supposed  _ to win. They were… they...

Oh no, he was losing it again, lost in hopeless thoughts about right and wrong, about fair and unfair, about the war that happened one hundred years and four months ago. Back then, at the airfield, when he and Crowley failed to prevent the Armageddon.

He would do anything to learn what happened to his best friend. The last time he had seen him was back then, one hundred years and four months ago, when the waves of angels and demons poured from Heaven and Hell. Was Crowley dead? Killed back at the war, or later as a traitor? Was he somewhere being kept in a cell, perhaps tortured every day? Or did they make a plaything of him as well?

Because that was what the remaining angels were now. Until the war happened, no demon or angel was interested in sex. That was a human invention. He and - to his knowledge Crowley as well - had never tried it before, but after the Hell won and all the surviving angels were herded, imprisoned and started being tortured by the demons, the inhabitants of Hell started wondering about the ultimate punishment, the most cruel and utter humiliation. And since the angels were beings of love they chose to make sexual slaves of them, to serve demons night and day, to be hurt and raped in brutal orgies.

Some angels had now only one master, serving them and their friends as the master saw fit. Being brought to orgies as playthings but leaving them again with the same demon at the end of the day. They were also often traded for another or sold for demon money when the demon became bored with them. That was Aziraphale’s case - thank Lord he was not important enough to be on of the  _ Shared Angels _ , those ones were usually chained at one frequently visited place like the Main Hall, to be used by any passing demon or a hellhound that was with them. Removed from there only for any party prestigious enough to have one of the  _ Shared Ones  _ to entertain. The last time Aziraphale saw Gabriel at one of these parties he almost didn’t recognize the once proud angel.

Of course the demons didn’t limit themselves just to punishments of the sexual nature. The angel bodies - which were no longer clothed, only adorned by a collar and cuffs on wrists and ankles - and especially their wings which were now out all the time, were both often whipped, burned, broken and otherwise hurt. The angels couldn’t perform miracles to heal themselves instantly anymore but their bodies were still celestial and healed faster than a human would.

Did this happen to Crowley as well? Aziraphale never saw him at any demon party or when passing through halls - and how he looked for him the first few decades!

He needed to know what happened to his friend. He needed…

... he needed…

…he needed  _ air _ !

Aziraphale choked and then finally the demon who had his cock in the angel’s mouth pulled it out and let the angel took a couple of gulps of air until the demon thrusted it back cruelly laughing. That was his  _ master _ .

Reality came back into focus. Here he was, at one of those parties, lying on his back, on his broken and bloody wings, his wrist and ankle cuffs attached to the table. One demon brutally fucking his ass and another one his mouth.

But he knew he was lucky since besides the choking they were not paying much attention to him. They were focused on the main stage where Michael, one of the  _ Shared Ones _ , was on display and a demon was showing the rest how electricity works.

Apparently in the last hundred years the humans quite perfected it. That’s right, the humans survived. There had been a big crater and a bare wasteland in the middle of Great Britain after the War, but that was all. After the winning, imprisoning the angels and putting God to slumber since they didn’t know how to destroy him, the demons didn’t much care about what happened to Earth so they let it be, sometimes venturing there to steal ideas and have some fun, but that was all. Even the Hell and Heaven functioned somehow but Aziraphale didn’t know the details - he wouldn’t put past them to reverse where the punishment happened but perhaps they had too little imagination for that.

“... back into society,” said one of the demons and Aziraphale wondered why his brain, which had become so good at ignoring the demons’ blabbering, made him focus on that.

“Crawly? Really?”  _ WHAT?! _

“Yes, four months ago. After a hundred years in the pit they pulled him out, wiped his mind clean of everything that happened after the Fall and now he’s sauntering around like he used to, trying to keep up.”  _ HE’S ALIVE!!! … WIPED HIS MIND?! _

“And he’s coming here today?”

“I think so.”

Aziraphale’s mind was on fire. His friend was alive.  _ Alive!  _ Was it still his friend though? Or was his friend murdered and this only his body living on? Living a life where he never met Aziraphale, never made the Arrangement with him, never tempted him to lunches, never-

“There he is.”

Aziraphale jerked his head to follow the demon’s eyes but grazed the cock in his mouth by his teeth in doing so. His master loudly swore.

The angel was promptly uncuffed from the table and thrown on the floor and then the blows started coming. His master was fond of caning. Aziraphale was not, but knew from experience that it could be much worse.

He was looking at the floor when he saw a pair of bare feet approaching them. The fact that it was unusual since most demons wore shoes now aside… he knew those feet! Back from the days when shoes were not invented yet and he and Crowley had travelled through the world barefoot.

That meant this was...

...this was…

“Crawly!” said his master. “So you made it.”

“I did, yeah,” said Crowley. Why did they call him Crawly anyway? To wipe his 6000 years on Earth completely?

Aziraphale finally steeled himself and looked up. His friend was as he remembered him from the Garden of Eden. Black tunic with a little red in it, long red curly locks framing his face, snake eyes without the sunglasses. Not bothering to look at the slave at his feet. Aziraphale wanted to say something to him but swallowed it.

“I see you’re having fun,” remarked his friend - or what was left of him - to his master dryly.

“Yeah, this slut was not careful. But perhaps he would like to apologize and try better, hmm?” said his master with a harsh kick into Aziaphale’s ribs.

“Yes, master, I am sorry, master. Please let me do better, master,” said Aziraphale looking down, shuffled to his master and started kissing his boots. He knew how the game was played.

The demon who owned him huffed. “Hmm, Crawly, perhaps you would like to try him?”  _ What? No. No, no, no, no, no! Not that, please not that. _

“Why not?” said his friend and went to sit himself to the nearest sofa while putting aside his tunic.

Aziraphale was grabbed by the hair and hoisted up. “Do not disappoint me, whore. I heard Hastur has been looking for another slave lately.”

The angel shuddered; he had never been Hastur’s slave but he had seen slaves of Hastur’s - and their empty tortured looks were not very encouraging.

“Yes, master,” mumbled Aziraphale unhappily and watched with trepidation how Crowley revealed himself. His master whistled and the angel realized that Crowley was more endowed than any demon he had ever seen.

“Snake, hmm?” laughed his master.

Aziraphale didn’t see Crowley’s smirk as he was roughly pushed on his knees between his friend’s legs.

The angel looked up at him but there was no recollection on Crowley’s face, only a raised eyebrow, “Well, get to it.”

Aziraphale’s fingers trembled as he tried to relax his jaw and put the half hard demonhood in his mouth. He tried to relax it some more, and started to move.

He did his best to do it all on autopilot, as he would if he was servicing just any demon. Any demon that did not watch Shakespeare’s play with him, any demon that did not proudly show him his new Bentley, any demon that... had not been his best friend. But it  _ was  _ true, wasn’t it? This was not the same demon.

It was a staggering and horrible realization. His friend  _ was  _ truly gone. This was not him. This was not Crowley. This was Crawly, a demon who could have been Crowley, but never got the opportunity. But Crowley? He was dead. Dead and gone. He was alone.

Tears started pouring from Aziraphale’s eyes as he bobbed his head; as he licked and used his hand to massage the demon’s balls, he was careful not graze the cock in his ugly sobs. His hands and, well, all of him trembled as he tried to finish the job and not to break completely.

Finally. Finally the demon came and Aziraphale dutifully swallowed the cum.

His master look at the wreck that was his slave. Trembling little sack of tears, clutching and rocking himself with heartful sobs, and said in admiring tone to Crawly, “Wow. How did you  _ do  _ that?”

The addressed demon look puzzled, “I don’t know.”

“Well, that’s talent! I’ve never seen this one so broken.”

“Oh.”

“Have you got yourself a slave already?”

“No, not yet. Still trying to catch up after… you know what.”

“Hmm, do you want this one? I already have my eye on another one and you surely can ruin this whore better than me.”  _ No, no, no, no, please, if anything is left of right in the world, do not let that happen. I can’t, I can’t… _

“Alright. How much?”

They haggled for a bit but Aziraphale was not listening. If there was anything worse than his best friend being dead, it was becoming a slave to what was left of him.

“Oi, slave.” Aziraphale was whacked over his head by a black wing, but only softly, not to hurt. “You better listen when I’m talking, do you understand?” growled his new master and Aziraphale dropped his eyes with a soft, “Yes”.

A hand firmly grabbed his chin and forced him to look up. Crowley’s face was harsh and unforgiving, “Yes, what?” he hissed.

“Yes, master,” whispered the broken angel.

The hand let his chin go, “That’s better. Now, I plan to spend some time here, but I don’t really want to  _ mingle _ , so will just sit here and observe. Until we leave, you will keep my cock warm.” It wasn’t a statement, it was an order.

“Yes, master,” said Aziraphale and put the soft cock in his mouth again. Fortunately for the angel his gag reflex was long gone; Crowley’s cock was quite big and the angel would have had trouble otherwise even with a softened cock of this size.

Aziraphale didn’t know how much time they spent there, but it was when he started to feel the cock in his mouth hardening again that his new master decided they would leave the party.

Crowley miracled them into his quarters. Aziraphale didn’t even manage to look around properly before he heard, “On the bed, on all four.”

He did so.

He waited. He waited for the harsh push into his body, perhaps a swish of a whip hitting his back or wings, he waited for a hand gripping his collar choking him or for hands bruising his hips further.

What happened was… nothing. 

 

So Aziraphale waited some more.

After a while he turned his head and looked. He saw Crowley standing near the bed frowning and looking over his scarred back, his bloody wings, his abused asshole, his bruised arms and legs.

Finally his new master spoke, “Well, this won’t do. Sit on the bed.”

When Aziraphale did, Crowley put an armchair across from him and sat in it. He took Aziraphale’s hands and maneuvered his wings to be softly touching the angel’s ones.

Suddenly Aziraphale knew what the demon was doing. He wanted to heal him, a complete recovery to repair his wings, mend the broken skin, remove the bruises and his scars. Oh that silly snake. That was not possible. Even before the War many angels, beings of love, were needed to perform such a miracle. And much more demons. Because what was needed when healing other celestial beings was  **love** .

Perhaps  _ his  _ Crowley would have been able to heal him somewhat, but this stranger? Without a chance.

This, Aziraphale knew for certain. That’s why he was greatly surprised when his ribs stopped hurting, when he felt his feathers sprout anew and when he saw the bruises disappear.

He was fairly sure his jaw dropped when Crowley smiled at him with the same boyish grin he had given him in the Garden of Eden and said, “Well, that’s better, isn’t it? Now go to wash all the blood off,” and showed him the way to the bathroom.

There was a waterfall and a pool of warm water and as Aziraphale sank into it, he had a beautiful smile on his face. His friend was not dead. He was buried somewhere deep in that body and did not remember Aziraphale… but he was there.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this, please leave a comment! :-)

 

Aziraphale was in the pool of warm and crystal clear beautiful water and felt so heavenly…

Crowley was alive!

His friend, his best friend, his…  _ only  _ friend was alive. He was there somewhere in that body.

The angel felt like he was floating on a cloud.

Should Aziraphale tell ‘Crawly’? Should he tell him that he has known him for 6000 years? Should he tell him about the Arrangement? About all their dinners and meetings in the park and-

A strong hand grabbed his collar, hoisted him into the air and slammed him violently against a wall. “What did I tell you about not listening to me?” hissed the demon glaring at him. Oh, he must have zoned out in the bliss.

“I-” started Aziraphale, but before he could finish the demon hissed again and brought their mouths together.

The angel’s mouth was violently claimed, the demon’s tongue slipped into his mouth and started mapping it out and oh - this was not a human tongue, this was a long and forked snake tongue. He had never seen _his_ Crowley with a forked tongue.

As he plundered Aziraphale’s mouth, the demon pressed him against the wall and Aziraphale felt Crowley’s  _ big  _ and hot erection trapped again his stomach. The demon moved against him, squeezing his cock between them and uttering little moans, all the while continuing his exploration of the angel’s mouth. His hands found their way to Aziraphale’s hips and from there to his butt cheeks which he started squeezing and kneading.

Aziraphale knew what must follow, Crowley would grab his ass, lift him in the air and thrust himself into the angel. Oh dear. He should have spent the time in the bath preparing himself for that huge cock in addition to his musings of joy.

Crowley’s mouth left his. “Mineeeee,” he hissed possessively.

Aziraphale used the opportunity and ventured, “M-master, may I prepare myself, please? You  _ are  _ quite big.” He would never consider asking this of any other demon, they would have laughed at him and only taken him more violently. But he had just been healed and this was Crowley…

His master was glaring at him for daring to suggest postponing his pleasure. His normally slitted pupils were wide with  _ want  _ and he was breathing heavily. “Very well then, but you will make it worth the wait.”

He grabbed Aziraphale and hauled him to the bed, “Spread your legs and make a show of it, slave,” said the demon and positioned his armchair directly in front of the bed. He snapped his fingers and a bowl of oil appeared on the desk next to the bed.

Aziraphale felt his cheeks grow hot and knew he must be blushing. He had been forced to do a lot of humiliating, degrading and disgusting things over the last hundred years, but this didn’t feel like that, this felt... intimate, and more real than any of that. 

 

“Yes, master.” he said softly.

He scooped a little bit of oil onto his fingers and lay back on the many pillows Crowley had on his bed. He put one of the pillows under his butt and spread his legs for the demon to have a good look at his asshole. Then he started slowly circling his opening with his fingers.

The angel glanced at Crowley who was watching the image in front of him with rapt attention, his massive cock out being slowly stroked by his hand.

Aziraphale took a deep breath and exhaled. Then slowly he put his middle finger into himself and started pushing deeper with circular motions. He heard Crowley hiss, “Yesssss,” and Aziraphale’s cheeks grew even hotter.

He started slowly pushing his finger in and out. In and out. Afraid of dawdling too much and making the demon lose his patience, he added a second finger and flexed his digits a little bit trying to relax himself. Then he started again with the circular motions , his heart beating so loudly he wondered if Crowley could hear it. He stole another look. The demon was practically vibrating in his seat, his strokes faster now.

Aziraphale continued preparing himself. Two fingers, in and out, a wiggle here, a finger-scissoring there. He was just about to add a third finger when he heard a loud crowl and a thud- Crowley had practically jumped from the armchair, causing it to fall over.

The angel didn’t even have time to catch a glimpse of his master before he was flipped over onto his stomach and the demon buried himself deeply in him with a guttural moan. What followed was a brutal fucking, his master lying on him, pistoning in and out with the force of a desperate animal.

It was not particularly pleasant, bordering on painful, sadly still the most kind sex Aziraphale had ever experienced, but the warmth that had appeared in his chest when he had found out Crowley was still there didn’t disappear. He  _ was  _ there. And ‘Crawly’ had listened to Aziraphale, had allowed him to prepare himself - after making sure he got something out of it… such a Crowley thing to do! Aziraphale had to smile at the thought,while the demon on him used his body for pleasure.

Finally the demon came with a loud shout and collapsed on Aziraphale, breathing loudly.

The weight on Aziraphale was great but it was kind of comfortable, like a heavy blanket. Well, if the blanket was trying to get it's breathing in order like it had run a marathon.

Finally the  _ blanket  _ slipped from him and he glanced at it. His new master was flushed and dazed. The demon waved his hand and the cum in Aziraphale and on his own cock disappeared.

"Did I hurt you?" asked Crowley, biting his lip.

Aziraphale shook his head. He should probably say, 'No, master. Thank you, master,' but he couldn't bring himself to do so.

The demon slowly nodded and went away in the direction of the bathroom.

Aziraphale only buried himself deeper into the bed and took the opportunity to enjoy its warmth and softness before it came to an end.. Slaves didn’t sleep in beds,hey slept on cold floors chained to the bedpost without anything to keep them warm. One of the bedposts farther from their master’s head so they wouldn’t get any violent ideas, like strangling the master in their sleep.

So Aziraphale was trying to accumulate warmth and softness from the smooth and comfortable blanket, inhaling Crowley’s smell which for some reason only added to the angel’s comfort.

His master came back and yawned. “Right.”  He gestured toward the floor and Aziraphale made his way down to kneel by the bedpost.

Crowley snapped his fingers and a chain appeared, connecting the angel’s collar and the bedpost. Aziraphale noticed that it was long enough for him to lie down - sometimes the demons deliberately made them shorter, and the angels had to sleep sitting or kneeling.

Aziraphale was surprised when Crowley snapped his fingers a second time and a blanket and pillow appeared on the floor.

“Good night, slave,” said Crowley on the bed and turned off the lights.

“Good night, master,” answered Aziraphale softly and cocooned himself in the blanket.

* * *

Aziraphale woke up with a silent scream. He was breathing heavily and his body was covered in cold sweat. This was not unusual for him though. He supposed most of the angels must be plagued by nightmares about their horrible experiences under the demons’ rule. And conditioned to wake up  _ silently  _ from them, of course.

To his surprise he heard a great rustling from the bed. He looked and in the dark he saw Crowley moaning and tossing around, having a nightmare of his own.

His first instinct was to wake him up, but perhaps that would not be appreciated. He leaned against the bed and put his upper body on it, so that he could touch Crowley’s wings with his own.

He started incredibly softly stroking the demon’s wings with his own in a comforting manner.

It seemed to be working: Crowley stopped tossing and his breathing became calmer.

Aziraphale smiled, rested his head on the bed and continued stroking. It calmed him as well… the quiet… the softness of the sheets… Crowley’s feathers…

* * *

Aziraphale woke up to the sound of an alarm. All demons had the same as they were not very imaginative.

He realized he was still half on the bed, his wings lying over Crowley, who…

...who was staring at him. Aziraphale felt  blood rushing to his cheeks, “Uhm… I just… a nightmare,” he blustered, and didn’t specify whose nightmare.

The demon nodded and then snapped his fingers, removing Aziraphale’s chain. Aziraphale then followed Crowley’s gaze to demon’s morning wood. Oh, of course.

The angel climbed onto the bed and settled himself between Crowley’s legs. He looked at his master, who was positioned comfortably on the bed’s many pillows, eyes closed, obviously waiting for his cock to be worshipped.

Alright, then.

Aziraphale softly ran over the impressive length of the demon with his knuckles and started placing soft kisses to it. He started down at the base and trailed kisses across the length. He had never tried to be imaginative when servicing a demon, but this was different. It had always been different with Crowley, so it should probably not surprise him that much.

When he ended up at the head, he gave it short licks and started softly, very softly fondling the demon’s balls with one of his hands.

Crowley’s eyelids fluttered and his chest was moving rapidly.

Aziraphale took the head into his mouth and swirled his tongue at the slit.

“FUCK!” exclaimed the demon and opened his eyes.

The angel did his best not to look smug.

“Wh-what’s your name, slave?” breathed Crowley, as the angel started bobbing his head and increased the pressure on the demon’s balls

Aziraphale had to remove his mouth from Crowley’s cock to answer, “Aziraphale, master,” then he got back to bobbing and sucking slightly.

“Mmm, yesssss, like  _ that  _ ,” the demon murmured, ”Aziraphale, yes, it suits you. So, what’s the short version for it? Az? Azi? Zira?”

Aziraphale stopped in his ministrations to give the demon a horrified look.

Crowley looked at his slave and started laughing, “Really, Aziraphale is nice, but sometimes it will be a mouthful, so how shall I shorten it? Also, continue.”

Aziraphale started stroking the demon with his hand while racking his brains. In 6000 years Crowley had never suggested calling him ‘ _ Azi _ ’. He shuddered internally. Crowley always called him… yes… that was an idea… should he? Shouldn’t he? Would it be too painful to hear it from Crowley’s mouth again?

“You can call me ‘angel’, master,” he answered softly.

“Angel? Isn’t that too general?” frowned the demon, but then he thought about it and said, “Yes, angel. That feels right, for some reason. Put your mouth back on me, angel.”

Aziraphale did. His feelings were mixed It was pleasant to hear Crowley’s voice calling him ‘angel’ again, but it was less pleasant under  _ these  _ circumstances.

It did not take long for the demon to come.

As Aziraphale licked him clean, Crowley lay down against the pillows and closed his eyes again, and said, “Yes, your name suits you. I don’t think mine suits  _ me _ . I mean - Crawly - that’s just not  _ me _ . But they’ve forbidden me to change it. I think I did so before, you know.” He sighed, “I don’t remember much after the Fall. The last thing I remember is them telling me to get up there and make some trouble. From what I’ve read in Earth history books I did something quite significant. But that couldn’t be why they got so upset with me - 6000 years later. I have no idea what I did! And they explicitly forbade me to look for it and ask questions about it! As if I didn’t  _ Fall  _ for asking questions! Tssss! I did something that got 6000 years of my memory wiped! I have no idea what I’ve been doing those six thousand years. Was I here in Hell? Was I on Earth? What did I do? What did I do  _ wrong  _ ? But noooo, ‘No asking questions, we will be watching you, Crawly, we may be watching you  _ anytime  _ .’”

Aziraphale froze. Crowley noticed, “Oh, don’t worry. Yeah, they  _ might _ be watching right now, but I don’t think a blow job is going to interest them very much.”

Aziraphale agreed. No, a blow job would not. But Aziraphale telling Crowley about their shared history and the reason why the demon was now missing parts of his memory certainly  _ would _ .

The demon grimaced, “Unfortunately, I will have to try not to search for my past. Nothing more than reading history books looking for serpents, anyway. They told me they’re giving me this chance  _ only _ . One wrong step and they destroy me for good. ”

Aziraphale swallowed.

“Well, angel, what about you? What have you been doing these 6000 years?”

“I… I was on Earth, master.”

“Oh, ever met me?”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley. At his friend who might be watched at all times. His curious friend who loved asking questions. His best friend who was one wrong step away from being killed for good.

“No, I’m afraid not, master.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, yay! I'm afraid though the boys will need to work their way to fluff and it will be a bumpy ride :-).

 

“Right, I think some food is in order. Let’s go,” said the demon and sauntered away.

 

Aziraphale followed, and tried to chase away the idea of food. Crowley was not speaking about human food, the one that ethereal beings were able to eat if they liked - if they had found out how marvellous oyster, crêpes, and sushi could be- but didn’t _have to_. No, Crowley was speaking about the food that all demons and angels had to consume from time to time. About once a week was ideal - so, of course, now most of the angels were now lucky if they got something once a month.

 

It used to be that any angel could create this mana from the energy that powered their miracles simply by concentrating, but when God had been put to slumber after the War, and the power shifted, the angels no longer had access to it. Only the demons did, and the demons loved to starve the angels and then have them suck off their masters while kneeling under the tables while the demons slowly ate their mana dishes.

 

Crowley led Aziraphale through a long corridor with many closed doors, “I am still building this place, sometimes rearranging rooms, sometimes creating a new one when I think of a new purpose for it. Here is where I eat, though I have a feeling there are a lot of things missing for now.” The demon opened one of the doors and Aziraphale entered the room.

 

The room was quite bare. There was one cupboard with glass doors which was empty except for one bowl and one spoon. One table and one chair. Well, not really a chair, more like a throne.

 

Crowley snapped his fingers and the bowl and the spoon transported on the table in front of the throne. Yes, Aziraphale thought, that was his lazy snake. Perhaps even lazier than usual.

 

When Aziraphale started to make his way to the throne so he could kneel at his master’s feet while the demon ate,  Crowley snapped his fingers again and the angel’s jaw dropped

 

Because _another_ bowl, spoon and chair (though less throne-like) had appeared at the table.

 

Crowley sat down on his throne, gestured to the shocked Aziraphale to sit as well and then connected his hand to make a demonic prayer. A demonic prayer looked a lot like the angelic one - angels always used the entire palms connected together when making a prayer to symbolize that they are whole and unfallen from grace (this gesture was adopted by several human religions) but the hands were each making a devil sign, connected by the index fingers and the little fingers.

 

Aziraphale swallowed when it finally sank in that Crowley was planning to feed him as well, and then watched his friend close his eyes and concentrate.

 

The bowls started filling up with mana. When they were full, Crowley stopped. Each bowl had the _same_ amount of mana.

 

Crowley exhaled, opened his eyes and took the spoon in his hand. Aziraphale didn’t make a move, though he was shaking slightly. If another demon had done this, he would have thought this was a cruel joke, but Crowley, well Crawly, would hopefully not do that to him.

 

He decided to be brave, “Thank you, master,” he said and grabbed the spoon.

 

His master gave him a smile and started eating. The angel followed. His hand still shook a little bit but he managed.

 

“So, what’s human food like?” asked the demon, “I’ve read they have more than just one kind. It is true?”

 

Oh, the idea of _human_ food! Yes, the angel had been starving and human food would not help him, but he still missed it So. Damn. Much!

 

Only twenty minutes later when they both finished their bowls he realized that he had been talking non stop about starters, main courses, desserts, soups and salads.

 

“Oh, my apologies, master, for...” he gestured hesitantly.

 

“What? No, I asked. It’s really fascinating! You will have to tell me more later,” said the demon and closed his eyes for a short moment, checking the time and then sighed. “I have to go now, but I will give you a job while I’m gone. Come.” He snapped his fingers and both of their bowls and spoons disappeared and then appeared in the cupboard.

 

“Follow me,” said the demon and the angel followed him into the corridor.

 

* * *

 

“Now here is my room for-” started the demon but was interrupted by his angel’s high-pitched keening

 

Aziraphale couldn’t believe his eyes.

 

BOOKS.

 

Books everywhere. They were all over the floor, stacks of them filled this vast room. There were stacks of old grimoires, of what looked like crime-thrillers, of colourful fantasy novels, of encyclopedias, heaps of scrolls, and also stacks of both demonic and angelic newspapers (Infernal Times and Celestial Observer).

 

Aziraphale hadn’t read a book in a century. Aziraphale hadn’t _held_ a book in a century. And now books were _everywhere_. The were just a touch away, he reached out his hand to touch the closest stack-

 

-but before his fingers could make it, he forearm was gripped by a strong hand.

 

“Are you listening to me?” growled a voice.

 

Oh dear.

 

“My apologies, master, I… I really love books,” Aziraphale lowered his eyes and tried to make himself smaller. If his hand had not been not in Crowley’s hold, he would have knelt.

 

“Alright, but don’t let that happened again, are we clear?” Crowley let go.

 

Aziraphale exhaled in relief and vowed to do better, “Yes, master. Thank you, master.”

 

Crowley led him to a quite comfortable looking sofa. There was a small table in front of, with some papers on it with Crowley’s handwriting on them, but Aziraphale suspected that the demon was mainly using it as a footstool.

 

“So,” said the demon and waved his hand. A clock appeared on the wall, marking the time as a little past 10. “You will have two jobs. The first one, the less important one - and I won’t mind if you don’t succeed- is to go through some of this stuff and find mentions of serpents in human history. The books I have already gone through are in another room, so you can start anywhere you like. The second job, the **important** one,” said the demon and took a step toward the angel, “is to prepare yourself for me before I get back. Which will be, I think, after three,” he gestured again and a small bowl of oil appeared on the table. ”So, by three, you will be nicely stretched for me, because when I get back I suspect my mood won’t be the best, so I will bend you over this sofa and fuck you until it’s better. Understood?” The demon put his hand on the back of Aziraphale’s neck.

 

“Yes, master,” said Aziraphale. The demon kissed him deeply, his forked tongue again mapping his mouth, with less force this time.

 

After Crowley left, the angel couldn’t believe where he was. In the middle of a book sea! Aziraphale looked around in wonder - which one to choose first?

 

* * *

 

Aziraphale was, figuratively, in heaven…

 

...at least until a shadow blocked his light... what did… oh.

 

Above him stood his master and he was not amused, probably having seen the untouched bowl of oil. Aziraphale quickly checked the clock, it couldn’t yet be…

 

The clock read 15:05.

 

Oh… _fuck_.

 

The book Aziraphale had been holding clattered to the floor when Crowley grabbed him by  the neck and slammed him into the nearest wall. His wings were quite resilient and protected his back, but he was choking from Crowley’s vice grip, his feet hanging in the air. His hands, harshly trained not to defend himself, were at his sides, his nails biting into his palms.

 

“You had one important thing to do,”  hissed the demon in front of him, his face beyond infuriated. “One!” _slam_ , “Important!” _slam_ , “THING!”

 

“Am I being too soft on you, slave? Am I treating you too _nicely_? I’ve seen how Hastur treats his slaves. Should I be like that for you to listen to me, huh, is that the only way?!”

 

Cold fear gripped Aziraphale and tears sprang into his eyes. Did he really just blow his chance for something better? For a life with Crowley where he could be as happy as the memory-wipe situation allowed?

 

The hand let go and he fell to the floor. Aziraphale drew a much needed breath and cowered to the floor, on his knees with his forehead pressed to the ground, “I am sorry, master, I’m sorry! Please, I will do better, please give me one more chance, master, I won’t disappoint you again! Please!” cried Aziraphale.

 

The angel felt a foot on his back between his wings. Not really pressuring down, just showing that it _could_. “You last chance, slave. Next time I _will_ punish you,” said his master coldly.

 

“Yes, master, yes. Please, thank you,” said the trembling angel.

 

The pressure between his wings disappeared, “You have five minutes to prepare yourself, then join me in the bathroom,” said his master before his footsteps started moving away.

 

Aziraphale allowed himself a couple of seconds to calm his breathing before grabbing the bowl of oil; and there, on the floor among all the books, he started preparing himself for his master. He didn’t know if he was allowed to use the sofa here or the bed in the bedroom for it, but he didn’t really think about it. He was checking the clock now every ten seconds so as not to be late and after four minutes he got up, a little lightheaded and aching, he had been rushing and not treated his body very kindly, and ran to find the bathroom among the many rooms.

 

Fortunately, the door to the bathroom was open so he found it quickly.

 

He found Crowley floating in the pool on his back. He was actually lying more _on_ the water than _in_ the water - probably one of his demonic miracles, or maybe he was drawing upon his serpentine traits to float on the surface like a water snake

 

His eyes were closed, his arms spread widely, his soft cock lying against his thigh.

 

“So, you can be punctual, after all,” said the demon without moving or opening his eyes.

 

“Yes, master, I am sorry again, master.”

 

“Wash me,” ordered the demon and pointed on a cabinet close to the pool, “also massage my hands, feet and head.”

 

In the cabinet, Aziraphale found lots of different bath and shampoo tubes labeled with Crowley’s squiggly handwriting as well as washcloths and towels.

 

He prepared towels for later and took a couple of tubes and a washcloth with him to the pool.

 

Aziraphale put some soap on the washcloth and rubbed it until there was a nice foam, then advanced to his master and started with his left hand.

 

His master didn’t say a word nor opened his eyes as Aziraphale got to work, kneading his master’s fingers in slow circles, worshipping his hands and arms, but his breath would sometimes change, or his eyelids would flutter.

 

Aziraphale then started with Crowley’s left foot, applying more pressure and trying to remember what he himself had liked when he had gone to the  spa a long time ago - the spa had needed to be investigated for devilish influences, it had nothing to do with pampering himself! The spa had needed to be investigated _many_ times.

 

He used his knuckles to massage the deep tissue below the long arch, then concentrated on each toe, and then moving the foot in angles to stretch it; rather enjoying hearing Crowley’s little moans when he did all that.

 

As he then progressed up to the thigh, he noticed that the demon’s cock had taken interest as well and was not as soft as before. He stopped before reaching it and went to the other leg to give it the same treatment.

 

After finishing the right leg, noting that Crowley’s cock had grown a little harder, he went back for one of the shampoos and then proceeded to take care of Crowley’s hair, and then gave him a head massage - how lucky he was that he had needed to investigate that spa and was so experienced!

 

By the time he was working on Crowley’s head, rubbing slow circles, he had the demon gasping and moaning.

 

Aziraphale went to wash the demon’s chest but when he touched one of the demon’s nipples, a hand shot out to still him. 

 

Crowley’s eyes were now opened and his pupils dilated. Aziraphale looked at the demon’s cock, which was fully erect, somehow looking even more impressive than before.

 

“Are you well prepared for me, angel?” said Crowley, and to Aziraphale’s great relief the warmth in his voice was back. He hesitated.

 

“Did you disobey me, again?” The demon narrowed his eyes.

 

“NO!” said Aziraphale quickly. “I prepared myself as I could in that time, master, I just...”

 

“...don’t know if it will be enough?”

 

The angel nodded, his eyes down.

 

“Mmm, you will go slowly then,” said the demon.

 

“Me?”

 

“Yes, you will ride me. You can ease yourself onto me as slowly as you need to,” explained Crowley and then did a little miracle so the water would treat Aziraphale the same as it did Crowley - more like a water bed than a water pool.

 

Aziraphale climbed atop of his master and positioned himself so the demons cock was nudging his entrance. He tried to exhale and relax his muscles, but was still greatly nervous.

 

“Calm down, angel,” said a comforting voice, “I have no intention to make you bleed. If it is too much for you, I will give you more time to prepare yourself.” Crowley comfortingly stroked the angel’s hips. He then snapped his fingers to coat oil onto his hand,  which he proceeded to put on his cock.

 

Aziraphale felt himself relaxing upon hearing his master proclamation and when the demonhood was quite slick, he lowered himself onto it a little bit, and then slowly again, and then again. He was pleasantly surprised when it hurt less than he had thought it would. The worst of it he had probably done to himself in his hurry to prepare himself in time.

 

When a good part of his master's cock was inside him, he started moving his hips slowly, forward and down, backwards and up.

 

Crowley’s hands were on his hips again, and after a while the demon said, “Mmm, I think I would like you to have more flesh on you, angel. Bigger hips I could grab.”

 

Oh, Crowley’s subconscious was probably trying to get him to the version it had known before the mind wipe. “I would,” Aziraphale swallowed as he continued gyrating his hips, “I would need regular mana and then some human food, master.”

 

“Alright,” agreed the demon and moaned, ”you will me explain how to get human food later. Now,” his breath hitched, “ _faster_.”

 

Aziraphale carried out the order. Meanwhile one of the demon’s hands travelled to the angel’s right nipple and started playing with it.

 

“ _Mineee,_ ” hissed his master.

 

“Yours,” agreed Aziraphale.

 

Crowley came.

 

* * *

 

They left the bath and Aziraphale dried the relaxed and contented demon with a fluffy towel.

 

The angel was quite content as well, believing that the most awful situation that could happen today was already behind him. Then his master said, “By the way, since you’re my first slave, I was instructed to visit Belial with you. He’s expecting us in two hours.”

 

Belial, one of the few demons with imagination, now known in Hell as ‘the Trainer’. Oh no! No, no, no, no, no!

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, yay! A little warning: this is more of a hurt, the next chapter will be more of a comfort and fluff.

 

Belial.

Nowadays the only job of this demon, the only mission in his immortal life, was to perfect the suffering of angels.

Demons in general were not very smart and had no imagination - Crowley being the exception in both cases.

Belial  _ was  _ smart, and what little imagination he had had at the start he started cultivating by educating himself with human books on torture, sadism and exotic sexual practices.

Now he was known as  _ the Trainer _ .

There were a couple of reasons why an angel could end up in his hands. All of them did at the start, so he could judge if they had been broken in properly, assess them, and give a lecture to their masters how to ‘look after’ them. After all the angels had passed through his hands at least once, he offered further discipline, lectures and training. A couple of nights with the Trainer was a favourite threat of the masters. Then there were both public and private shows The Trainer organized with the  _ Shared Angels  _ or his own ones.

Aziraphale had suffered his hospitality four times: the assessment every angel did, the time his master wanted him to learn how to deepthroat and didn’t have the patience to train the angel himself, another training for him to wake up from his nightmares silently, and as a punishment after one time Aziraphale collapsed when performing his services after his master hadn’t let him sleep enough.

Four times with the Trainer were four times too many. And of course he had visited with his masters many lectures and shows that the Trainer had organized.

And now he would spend an unknown amount of time with that demon again, he might do numerous terrible things to him and-

“-THE,” a distant sound tried to overpower the ringing in his ears. He tried to concentrate on it.

“Breathe, Aziraphale, breathe,” said the voice again.

Aziraphale realized that he was sitting on the floor, shaking and hyperventilating. Crowley was also sitting on the floor with a concerned look on his face, rubbing the angel’s arms with his hands, his wings stroking the angel’s wings.

“Crowley?” he said.

“Crawly, yes. Though it’s ‘master’ to you,” smiled the demon at him.

“Master, yes, right, of course,” nodded Aziraphale who still felt quite lightheaded and shaken. He was then hoisted up into the demon’s arms and carried bridal style into the bedroom where he was gently deposited on the bed.

He was still trying to control his breathing when a cold wet towel was stroked across his face. Crowley, clad in his black tunic again, was sitting on the bed with a bowl of ice water and with great look of concentration on his face.

Aziraphale started shivering.

A blanket was put around him.

“Thank you, master,”  he said softly.

The demon nodded unhappily, “I cannot  _ not take you  _ to Belial. It was an order and I… I am in no position to refuse.”

“I understand, master. Just… just please don’t leave me alone with him,” said Aziraphale.

“You have my word,” said Crowley and rearranged them both so Crowley was half sitting half lying on the bed propped against the pillows while his angel was propped against him, hugged by the demon’s arms. Crowley’s wings covering them both as if protecting them from the outside world.

“Now angel, try to think about other things. Why don’t you explain to me how I could get human food. Is it possible to miracle it?”

So Aziraphale, incredibly comfortable in Crowley’s arms, started to explain that to miracle a complicated dish was practically impossible. You could not duplicate all the processes that were induced in food by cooking or by time. But what was possible was to miracle up the ingredients, raw or processed only a little bit. So you could miracle the grapes, but you couldn’t miracle the wine - followed by a long explanation of what wine was, which the demon didn’t understand much of - or you could miracle raw eggs and meat, but not the dish ‘ham and eggs’.

Then Aziraphale carefully explained that it may be difficult for Crawly to miracle things he never encountered before, but it was  _ possible  _ that  _ if  _ he had visited Earth in the last 6000 years and encountered some things, his  _ body  _ might be able to remember how to miracle them even when his  _ mind  _ did not. Surely in those many books Crawly had gathered there must be some cookbooks for him to learn about ingredients that he could try to miracle.

Aziraphale then continued to talk about the importance of salt and spices, about alcohol, about desserts and…

...and then suddenly two hours were gone and they had to go.

* * *

“Crawly!” said Belial as the demon and his angel - the angel a couple of steps behind his master like a proper slave - stepped into the Belial’s workshop. The walls were full of shelves with various objects: whips, floggers, paddles, chains, spreader bars, nipple clamps, ball gags, O-rings, butt plugs and dildos… Aziraphale had to look away from it all not to have another anxiety attack.

Belial continued, “Yes, I was expecting-” his voice faltered as he stared at Aziraphale. 

Why would… oh.  _ Oh.  _ Aziraphale’s body had been healed by Crowley. His scars were gone, his wings again white and full of feathers.

“You paid to have him healed? Or did you buy him like this, a beautiful canvas to be marked? That must have been expensive as fuck! So many demons needed to heal one angel. It’s usually done only with the  _ Shared Ones  _ when they are too broken and we want to start marking them all over again. I see you already started,” he pointed at the bruises on Aziraphale’s neck above his collar where the demon had choked the angel after the book incident.

Crowley didn’t answer but his forehead creased with a frown. Belial didn’t notice and only circled Aziraphale. “Mmm. So beautiful. So many options.” His dark eyes glittering with want and desire, “How much for him? I’ll pay you more than you did for him.”

“What? No, he’s not for sale,” answered Crowley as Aziraphale tried to hold it together.

“Come on, Crawly, I’m rich, I can afford it. Just try me, name me a price,” smiled Belial.

“No, he’s not for sale,” repeated Crowley.

“I know that your means are limited at the moment, I am sure that-”

“I  _ said  _ he is Not. For. Sale.” hissed Crowley and then did something which had probably not been done for thousands of years.

He assumed the ‘challenging angel’ position with his wings unfurled but positioned back tensely, tightening into severe lines.

This was a position an angel assumed in Heaven before the Fall when challenging another angel to a fight. It was old and hadn’t been done after the Fall - in Hell or in Heaven. It was practically ancient and forgotten. But, well, not for Crawly. For him the Fall had happened quite recently.

Perhaps he didn’t even realize that he had assumed this position because Belial outranked him by several levels. And had this been 6000 years ago, Belial would probably have attacked him on the spot.

But this was not 6000 years ago. This was now, demons had become ‘civilized’ in 6000 years and didn’t use such savage techniques anymore.

Belial took a step back and swallowed, “Yes, of course, no problem. Not for sale. Got it.”

Crowley relaxed and his wings returned to their previous position.

Aziraphale did his best not to smile at Crowley and smirk at Belial.

“So,” Belial cleared his throat, “before I forget, I have a new alarm for demons. Give me your hand,” he said to Crowley and put a complicated looking watch on his wrist. Then he made a complex wave with his hand.

A light shot out from the watch, split and found its way to Aziraphale’s wrist- and ankle cuffs and his collar.

“Now it is connected to your slave’s collar and cuffs. All you have to do is set a time for the alarm and the intensity. When the time comes, the cuffs and collar will do anything from vibrate to administer severe electrical shock. You can even set multiple alarms. The best application for it is in the morning combined with allowing the slave chain long enough that their mouth reaches your cock. So in the morning they will get their shock and know they should wake you up by choking on your cock. Nice, hmm?” smiled the Trainer deviously and snapped his finger to summon a small but thick book, “Here’s the manual.”

“Oh, thank you,” said Crowley and snapped  _ his  _ finger so the book disappeared. Probably joined all the other books in the Book Room, thought the angel.

Belial then proceeded to talk about other applications of the alarm, but Crowley, noticed Aziraphale, was not paying much attention to him. He was frowning at the complicated looking gadget on his wrist as if trying to remember something.

Oh.

Aziraphale suddenly realized why. This thing was subconsciously reminding Crowley of the complicated looking Devon watch he had been wearing before the war.

“...so their sleep is beautifully interrupted every ten minutes! Devious, right?” beamed Belial.

“Devious,” nodded Crowley as if he had been listening.

“Yes. Now, let me educate you on how to treat these fucktoys,” said the Trainer and gestured at Aziraphale. “Many demons think that the main thing is pain. But no. The most important thing in dealing with these sluts is  _ humiliation.  _ You can’t just beat them and then let them bleed crying and screaming on the floor. No, no, no. First they must beg for it. Then they must count and thank you for each blow. And finally, they must tell you how they enjoyed it and  _ why _ .”

“Why?”

“Yes, all of them are taught many very humiliating phrases that will amuse their masters. Watch,”  he turned to Aziraphale. “Why do you love being a slave, bitch?”

“I love being a slave because I love sucking cocks, sir.” said Aziraphale looking at the ground and felt his cheeks reddening. These things had long ago stopped disturbing him that much, he was more worried about not being in pain or starved, but suddenly, in front of Crowley, it seemed incredibly degrading.

Belial laughed, “See? You can of course teach them what you want them to say, or if you give me a list or a theme, I will teach them for you for a fee.”

“I see,” said Crowley, his face revealing nothing. It reminded Aziraphale of that time when he and Crowley had played poker. The serpent had had a great ‘poker face’, betraying absolutely nothing about his emotions or his cards. Now he looked similar.

“Of course, there are many parties, shows, or lectures you can visit with him to learn. Most of them are advertised on the notice board in the Main Hall near the place where the cunt Gabriel is chained, but of some you learn only by an invitation. Got it?”

“Yep.”

“Good. Today I will mainly show you how to prepare your slave for the night. The main thing you have been told of course - to chain him every night so he can’t strangle you. Do you know that the whores sometimes still try that after all this time? Not all are  _ completely  _ broken, it seems, it’s fascinating! Fortunately it’s been sixty years since one of them succeeded because they are quite weak, but still. Now, let’s have a look at your slave.” He took a step to the angel and eyed his collar. Then he gestured vaguely and a file appeared in his hands.

“All the bitches had been assigned a number and a file had been made for them, so you can find out not only if they have ever tried something but mainly what I and their masters have found that they dislike the most. And of course you can add things.” He started browsing through the file, “Hmm, there were never any problems with this one, though I had disciplined him once for insubordination. It seems that he dislikes being called ‘angel’, is not fond of watersports and has sensitive nipples. Is that right, angel?”

Aziraphale winced at the same time as Crowley said, “What?” Yes, he hated being called ‘angel’ by any demon  _ except for  _ Crowley. Now he felt his master’s confused gaze on him.

“Yes, he hates being called ‘angel’, probably reminds him of all that he had lost. Or did you mean watersports? If your body drinks normal water, it also needs to come out if you don’t miracle the pressure away. A lot of fun can be had with that. I don’t think I plan a lecture on it in the near future but I’ll send you a leaflet. And, yes, the sensitive nipples. That means that nipple clamps should be your best friend when dealing with this pitiful excuse for a cumrag.”

Belial clapped his hands, “Now! Let me show you how to prepare your slut for sleep.”

The trainer circled Aziraphale and levitated several objects to him, “You will thank me for each object and tell me why you love it. Understood, you little whore?”

“Yes, sir.”

The trainer looked at Crowley, “How big of a butt plug to put in him, hmm?”

“Is that necessary?” asked Crowley.

“Are you the expert, or me?” asked the Trainer.

“Right. Not very big, then.”

“Want him to be tight in the morning, hmm?” said the Trainer and took one of the objects floating in the air. Without warning he swiftly made Aziraphale bend a little with one hand and pushed the object all the way into him with the other.

Aziraphale gasped. He was very grateful that he had already sex with Crowley who was very well endowed otherwise this would have hurt quite a lot.

The Trainer made an impatient sound.

“Thank you for the butt plug, sir. I love it because I am a greedy little whore who has to always have something in the ass.”

The Trainer made a satisfied sound.

Aziraphale knew that one had to be a little creative with these phrases and not be sloppy with them. An amused master  _ might  _ mean a little bit of a cruel master. An unsatisfied master was sure to be a crueler master.

The Trainer locked the angel’s wrist cuffs together and then, using an arm restraint, put the angel’s elbows as close to each other as it was possible without dislocating his shoulders. This became painful almost immediately and excruciating very quickly.

“Thank you for the arm restraints, sir. I love them because I am a pain slut, I would love to wear them all the time.”

The Trainer now took something that Aziraphale at first thought were nipple clamps but soon found out to be testicle clamps. Small tears came to his eyes from the pain.

”T-thank you for the testicle c-clamps, sir. I love them because...” his brain was full of pain and not coming up with anything. It only got worse when the Trainer tugged at the chain that was connecting them, “Yes, slut?”

“I l-love them because they make my balls look pretty,” tried Aziraphale.

Belial laugh, “Oh, this one is truly delightful. When you change your mind, Crawly, or you become bored with him, tell me. I will buy him even covered with marks again,” he turned to the demon. “And of course you can put weights on the clamps, or make them hot, or connect them to something producing electricity. There are so many possibilities!”

The Trainer glanced at the clamps again and continued, “You know, it’s a pity that their cocks do not work. We never managed to make them erect no matter what threats or motivation we tried. It would bring new options, you know. I mean, we can still make some angels rape another one with a strapon, but it’s not the same,” he said and returned to his work.

This time there were nipple clamps and the Trainer smirked sadistically at Aziraphale, “Sensitive nipples, hmm?” he said as he put quite heavy and strong nipple clamps on him.

Aziraphale shouted and heard someone take a deep breath. Aziraphale realized that it was Crowley who was digging his nails into his palms and despite all the pain and humiliation it made him angry. It was one thing hurting  _ him _ . It was quite another upsetting  _ his Crowley! _

“Thank me, whore.”

“Thank you for the nipple clamps, sir.”  _ May you die choking on something, you sadistic prick  _ . “I love them because I love having such jewelry on my nipples.”

The trainer pulled on the chain connecting the nipple clamp probably not liking Aziraphale’s tone, “Mmm, are you also one of those not broken completely, toy? Should I advocate for you to spend some time with me so we can make sure?” He tugged again.

It was like a cold shower to Aziraphale, his legs stopped listening to him and he ended up on his knees trying not to shake. His head bowed down submissively. The Trainer looked at the pathetic image before him and laughed, “I thought so.”

“Now, Crawly. When you prepare him like this, make him service you - have him suck you or rim you, suck your nipples or lick your feet. Of course make him beg for it first and thank you afterwards explaining why he loved it. After you do that, the last step is to take care of his mouth. His file says that he should be trained not to wake you up with his nightmares, so there is no need for a ball gag. Also you want his mouth free so he can wake you up with it if you’ll use the new alarm - so perhaps use an O-ring gag. But if not, the best thing is always to use a penis gag - a gag that has a big penis going into his mouth so he is half choking on it all night,” the trainer said and put big black penis gag into Aziraphale’s mouth, closing and tightening the straps at the back of the angel’s head, as kneeling Aziraphale tried to move his head into a position in which he could breathe. He was still shaking from the threat and the pain.

“There! All prepared for the night! You can keep the stuff that’s in him and on him - I know your collection must be very small,” said the Trainer and again tugged at the chain connecting the nipple clamps, “Now, I understand you don’t want to sell him. But what if I  _ rent _ him? Just for this night? I have a lot of money and nice things that might make your life easier.  _ Or,  _ ” the Trainer smiled significantly, ” I could owe you a favour, and that’s not a small thing.” He tugged again.

Aziraphale knew that any of his previous masters would have jumped at this opportunity. A favour from a demon of Belial’s rank was quite a boon. He looked at Crowley silently praying for the demon to keep his word.

Crowley took a deep breath, “Sorry, but I am too aroused from this not to go home with my slave right now and fuck him all night.”

The Trainer nodded. “Yeah, that does not surprise me. Maybe another day, hmm?”

“Perhaps,” agreed Crowley, and touched the still kneeling angel and miracled them into his quarters into the bedroom.

There he went quickly onto his knees as well and started removing Belial’s ‘gifts’ from his angel. First the nipple clamps, then the testicle clamps, followed by the penis gag, arms restraints and finally the butt plug. Aziraphale was still shaking from it all, from the experience, from the pain, from the emotions, from the fact that it’s behind him now. As his master was removing the toys, he noticed that the demon’s hands were bloody actually, nails had broken the skin when they had been biting into his palm during Belial’s demonstration. He looked at Crowley, who finished removing the last thing.

The demon looked at him, “Listen to me, angel, perhaps sometime I will want to play with some of these things, but never all of them together and never like this, okay? You won’t spend nights like this. That’s not something I would enjoy,” he said gently.

And then suddenly he was being hugged by his angel, hands holding him tight, Aziraphale’s head buried into his neck as his slave started crying and sobbing.

“Shhhh, angel, shhh. Do you want me to stop calling you angel? We can think of something else.” he felt Aziraphale shaking his head. “Okay, angel, okay. Hush. It’s alright now.”

Crowley thought that a ‘proper demon’ probably would leave most of the toys that Belial had put on his slave there, only making a room for where he wanted to put his cock. Not doing that probably made him a bad demon.

A normal bad demon should now fuck his slave, chain him to the bedpost, maybe set that alarm Belial had told him about, and go to sleep.

Which meant that Crowley wasn’t even a bad demon. He was a downright terrible demon, because what he did was let his angel cling to him, lifting them both up and going to bed while still hugging Aziraphale.

In bed he lay them both down still in this position, put a blanket over them and started caressing his angel with his wings.

A terrible, terrible demon.

He hoped that nobody was watching this scene, otherwise he was fucked. He should probably be more firm and demon-like with him - after all, this was his  _ slave _ , his plaything, for Satan’s sake! But for some reason all he wanted to do was to comfort and protect his angel. Well, to fuck him and dominate him as well, but not in the typically brutal demonic ways.

It was peculiar. Actually, a lot of things that he had learned today were peculiar. He decided to think about them some more before sleep would take him.

* * *

 

When Aziraphale woke up it was to that horrible standard demon alarm he had been listening to for the last hundred years.

To his surprise he felt absolutely comfortable and realized that he was laying on top of Crowley, both of them cocooned in their wings, the whole night without a single nightmare despite the horrible evening yesterday.

“Bugger it all,” mumbled Crowley, he snapped his fingers. The alarm stopped and a paper and pen appeared. Crowley quickly wrote something and snapped again making them disappear.

“No work today, I wrote to them that after Belial’s lecture I need to spend more time in bed with my slave,” said Crowley and hugged Aziraphale again, “let’s sleep, angel.”

Aziraphale hugged Crowley back tightly and smiled. Oh, yes, ‘spend more time in bed with his slave’. Crowley had always had the gift to lie with the truth.

In a minute, they were both asleep, cuddled up together.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The promised fluffier chapter :-)

 

The next time Aziraphale woke he was alone in the bed. He felt quite rested and knew that he must have slept for a long time.

 

The angel wiggled on the bed some more, enjoying the warmth and comfort, and yawned. Then he sat, stretched both his muscles and his wings, and looked around.

 

His gaze was caught by something at the table next to the bed. 

 

Was that…?

 

Yes it was. An _apple._  

 

An actual, real, red, beautifully looking apple!

 

Aziraphale stared in amazed wonder.

 

After a bit of staring he noticed that there was also a paper underneath it and read what’s on it - Crowley squiggly handwriting said: _Cracked how to miracle food! Rest as much as you want and then join me in the kitchen. -C_

 

The angel remembered that yesterday before they had gone to Belial they had had a long conversation about miracling food.

 

 _Oh!_ His smart serpent must have figured out how to do it!

 

Aziraphale took the beautiful looking apple into his hands and slowly examined it. Crowley always loved apples - not to eat them, mind you, but as a symbol of him tempting Eve. There had even existed a sketch of him holding an apple created by Leonardo da Vinci.

 

And now the first food he presented to Aziraphale was an apple.

 

The angel sighed. His friend being there, in the demon ‘Crawly’, was both heartwarming and heart wrenching. It was not his friend anymore, but he was still there in a way.

 

For a moment Aziraphale considered if the memory wipe could be reversible, if there was a way for the demon to get his memories back. Could perhaps Archangel Raphael help him to heal his mind? But the angel quickly banished these thoughts. They were dangerous. Hell could be watching the demon any time and Aziraphale will **not** risk losing him again!

 

With a resolute nod he took the apple and went to the bathroom where he immersed himself in the warm pool. He sighed contently and started eating the apple. 

 

It was good. Quite good actually for the first day of miracling food! But the angel hadn’t eaten human food for over one hundred years so perhaps his taste buds weren’t functioning properly.

 

After getting out of the bath he examined himself in the large mirror Crowley had in the bathroom. His eyes traced his beautiful white wings, his body without scars, his neck with purple bruises and his nipples with red marks where the clamps had bitten into them. 

 

He touched his left nipple and winced slightly. Yes, it was still painful to the touch. He hoped that his master will wait a while for the marks to fade away before playing with the nipples. Because Aziraphale was dead certain that his nipples are going to be greatly played with, now that his demon knew they are quite sensitive. Crowley will not want to hurt him but it will surely add thrill for the demon to perform such ministrations.

 

Aziraphale continued scrutinizing his reflection in the mirror. If there was one thing he would like to change about his stay here - one that had actually a small chance of happening - it would be something to cover himself with. The masters didn’t allow any clothes for their slaves anymore, but perhaps Crowley would? Tunic was perhaps too ambitious to ask for, but what about a loincloth? It was weird to sat on the couch in the library with his bare ass. It was even weirder to _read a book_ completely naked. 

 

But perhaps he should wait before asking Crowley. After all, he disobeyed his master just yesterday with not preparing himself before the demon came back. 

 

The angel headed to the kitchen and thought exited about what other food the demon managed to miracle up. 

 

When he entered the kitchen a fond smile crept onto his face and stayed there. The kitchen now was about twice the size than the last time, the walls full of various kitchen units and appliances, some of which Aziraphale knew, some of which he did not. And it would have been a beautiful, if a little weirdly designed kitchen, if not for the state of utter mess it was in.

 

Because almost every possible surface and a good portion of the floor too was covered by cookbooks, magazines and, most importantly, food. 

 

Food was _everywhere_. It was mostly raw ones. Here was a banana with a bite taken from it, there was whole eggplant, a lot of broken eggs on the floor, three tomatoes inexplicably stuck to the ceiling, various nuts scattered everywhere and, yes, was that a fish? 

 

Most of the things, and also his demon who was standing in the middle of the room looking at a cookbook with a concentrated look, were covered with a light layer of flour.

 

Truly. Crowley had flour on his tunic, flour in his hair and even flour on his face. Combined with his focused gaze Aziraphale thought he looked completely adorable and wanted to kiss him. Wait, _what_? Where did that thought came from?!

 

Before the angel managed to have a little freak out about it the demon noticed him, “Aziraphale! Look! Human food!” he gestured around himself excitedly.

 

Aziraphale decided to leave those thoughts for now and smiled at Crowley, “Well done, master. I see you are… experimenting?”

 

“Yesss,” hissed the demon happily, “it’s fascinating how many types of food humans have! And even more fascinating how many more types you can create by combining them! Or processing them in different ways! And apparently different nations have different cuisines and different recipes were prefered in various centuries and all in all it’s just so many things one can cook or bake! Did you know about baking? It sounds incredible!”

 

Oh yes, Aziraphale knew about baking alright. The angel loved pastries and just thinking about crêpes made him swallow, “Oh, yes. Though I never mastered it.”

 

“Well,” Crowley smiled, “it’s another thing you can do while you wait for me to come back from work, you can learn to bake and then surprise me with what you created!”

 

Aziraphale blinked. That sounded... quite great actually, “I would really like that, master. That’s an excellent idea.”

 

Crowley preened and then said, “I tried to examine the component known as ‘flour’. It was a little harder to miracle because it’s already something processed, but in the end I managed. Unfortunately it ended up,” he waved his hand around the room, “well, everywhere. I think I’ll need to practice more.”

 

The angel bit his lip because suddenly he felt an urge to giggle. When Crowley saw it, he said, “Oh, shut up,” warmly, in the similar way _his_ Crowley used to say. And then they looked at each other and suddenly they were both giggling. 

 

When they calmed down Aziraphale asked, “What did you like the most so far?”

 

“Mmm, I tried only a couple of things because I quickly found out that not all you’re supposed to eat raw, but some fruit I guess. I put some of it in the... ‘refrigerator’?” he pointed his hand at the appliance, “I even managed to get it working!” exclaimed the demon proudly.

 

“Usually it’s called only the fridge, it’s shorter,” said Aziraphale and went to check, carefully tiptoeing around the mess. To his surprise the fridge was truly on and inside various fruit, vegetable, meat, eggs and also some things that shouldn’t be there like a container of salt. 

 

“Great work, master,” said the angel and started putting some of the things into one of the cupboards. Crowley watched him curiously. 

 

Then the demon said, “Could you prepare a dish out of what I miracled? Even a simple one?”

 

“Yes,” nodded Aziraphale and started to gather the ingredients. He decided for a simple bacon and eggs plate with a salad on the side since there was no bread. Bread was too complicated to miracle, which Aziraphale knew, but surely there must be an appliance to make it here or an appliance could be miracled up that could help him to bake some bread!

 

While he was looking at various pans in one corner, Crowley started snapping his fingers and ‘cleaning’  the mess all around. Then he drew nearer to the angel and watched carefully what was he doing.

 

Aziraphale was quite immersed in the cooking when the demon said, “Is it true what Belial said?”

 

The angel startled, “Uhm, wh-”

 

“About the erections. Is it true that an angel can’t get hard?”

 

Aziraphale felt his cheeks quickly burning up and was glad that he didn’t put the bacon and eggs on the pan yet because he might have burned them as well. 

 

“Ohhhh! So it issss possssible,” hissed Crowley.

 

“Oh… well… that is… I mean… during the centuries on Earth… sometimes when I woke up… it, well.. was… but I - I never did anything about it! Just w-waited until it went away,” he closed his eyes. _Oh dear Lord_. This was more embarrassing than the whole scene with Belial together.

 

Then he felt a hot breath on his neck, “I sssssee. Sssso you never had an orgassssm. Mmmmm. And before thossse incidentssss, did you do anything sssspecial?”

 

“Uhm, no. I don’t think so. Perhaps I was relaxed? Maybe went out for a nice dinner?” said Aziraphale. It would be much later when will be thinking about those incidents again that he will remember that he had truly been out on a nice dinner. On a nice dinner _with Crowley_.

 

“Mmm,” said the demon and put some distance between them again.

 

Aziraphale continued to cook and tried to ignore Crowley’s gaze on him that for some reason felt much more intense now. 

 

When he finished he put the food on two dishes and set the table. They found out that fortunately Crowley’s body remembered how to eat with a knife and a fork and Aziraphale tried not to blush again when the demon complimented him on the food.

 

Then they spent some time examining various appliances and gadgets that Crowley had miracled up from various magazines. 

 

The mood in the room changed when Aziraphale tried to prepare an orange juice. A good portion of the squeezed orange didn’t end up in the prepared cup but on Aziraphale’s chest.

 

Before he managed to grab something to clean himself he heard a sharp intake of breath. The angel looked at his master whose transfixed gaze was now on the angel’s right nipple, the snake pupils blown wide open. Aziraphale followed his gaze and looked at the nipple. The pink rosebud with red marks from the clamp was now wet and a drop of the orange juice was hanging there, swinging softly. Another look at his master revealed the tented tunic and the angel knew that in a few moments he will be pounced at and probably bend over the closest surface.

 

Aziraphale decide to be proactive and made his way quickly to Crowley’s chair in front of which he knelt and looked at the demon, “May I suck you, master, please?”

 

The demon looked at him and narrowed his eyes as if he knew what was his doing. He seemed to contemplate it for a moment and then nodded.

 

After Crowley sat down, Aziraphale opened the demon’s tunic and revealed the big hard member. He licked it from the base to the top and took it into his mouth. 

 

“Wait,” said his master, “first tongue the balls.” 

 

The angel obliged. He softly cupped them and started licking them. First short licks at various places and then one big circling motion around the two balls repeated several times. Then he put one of them into his mouth while trying to swirl with his tongue and sucking softly. He also tried to humm a little bit to create another layer of pleasure. A quick glance at Crowley who had his eyes closed, his hands tightly gripping the armrests of his throne, told him that he was being quite successful in this endeavour. 

 

He was just honouring the other ball with same treatment when he felt a hand to grip his hair - not painfully but firmly - and he was pulled away from the ball and moved back to the massive demonhood. His mouth was now being impaled going all the way back to his neck. His gag reflex was no longer existing and Crowley didn’t spend almost any time cutting his air flow so it was not a great problem for Aziraphale, more like he was a little bit surprised since this was the first time of Crowley steering his head directly and fucking his mouth like this. The angel did his best to relax his mouth as the demon continued to be in charge, moving Aziraphale’s head back and forth.

 

Crowley’s moans could be only described as pornographic and the only two words Aziraphale managed to recognize between them was ‘angel’ and ‘mine’. It did cause an unusual feeling in his stomach but he didn’t know what he should think about that feeling so he rather continued in moving with the demon’s hand and relaxing his jaw. 

 

As the movements became faster and shorter he prepared to catch the semen in his mouth and swallow, but a moment before that happened Crowley pulled the cock from his mouth and ejaculated on Aziraphale's face, painting it with white strips of cum. 

 

The demon spent a while looking at his work possessively and then leaned over to Aziraphale’s ear and said in a low tone, “Distracting me with a blowjob won’t work every time. If I want to fuck you, I _will_ fuck you. Do you understand, angel?”

 

“Yes, master,” said Aziraphale who for some reason was not scared at all.

 

Crowley nodded and stood up. He snapped his fingers and the cum on Aziraphale’s face disappeared though the angel could still feel it a little bit.

 

“Finish the juice and then bring me a glass of it to the library, we shall read for a while. I will try to decipher that watch alarm manual and you will keep looking for serpents in human history,” said the demon and sauntered from the room.

 

 _Reading! Yes!_ Aziraphale smiled and wiped his chest of the orange juice not to be sticky. He didn’t dare to wipe his face even though theoretically it should have been clean.

 

When he entered the library he expected to see Crowley sitting on the couch flipping through the manual from Belial.

 

Not this, _oh dear_. 

 

Because Crowley _was_ sitting through the couch and he _was_ flipping through a book. But the thing was that it wasn’t the manual, no, it was the book that Aziraphale had been reading before he was grabbed by his neck and which then had clattered to the floor.

 

“So,” said Crowley, “you were trying to find mentions of serpents in the human history in the _Collection of Oscar Wilde’s work_?” 

 

“Uhm, I...that is...”

 

Crowley sighed, “I already was angry with you that day for your disobedience, so I won’t punish you physically, but no reading for you today. Instead you will act as my good little cock warmer while I read.” Crowley snapped his fingers and small pillow appeared on the floor between his legs

 

“Yes, master, of course master,” said Aziraphale who was glad that he was not going to be punished. Then he handed Crowley a glass of juice and kneeled on the pillow.

 

After his mouth was full of the demons cock, Crowley said, “I think I will set two alarms for you. One in the morning, so you can wake me up by your mouth, and the second a quarter to three in the afternoon so you are notified that I am coming and you should prepare yourself for my cock.”

 

Aziraphale hummed agreeingly and Crowley very gently swatted his head, “No humming and making my cock interested, I am trying to read here.” The demon didn’t put his hand away though, he kept it there and started playing with angel’s hair.

 

Aziraphale closed his eyes and concentrated on the sensation of Crowley’s fingers on his head. His breathing slowed down and he was breathing the demon’s musky smell. It was quite a pleasant smell he had to admit, so manly. Well demonly. Was that even a word? Well, nice and powerful smell, yes, that.

 

He was just enjoying the sensations and his world became a pleasant haze, the brain no longer working. Aziraphale had never heard of ‘subspace’. At least, not yet.

 

When Crowley started experimenting with his alarm watch, he noticed his slave was quite out of it, but he looked content so Crowley let him be. He set two alarms, on for the morning and one for the afternoon. Then he took Aziraphale to his arms and carried him to the bed where the angel quickly drifted to sleep. The demon didn’t join him there just yet though. 

 

Crowley closed his eyes, put his hands to his temples and checked if anyone was watching him.

 

Nobody.

 

Good. He had some work to do.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, a new chapter! Can I hear a wahoo? This one is from Crowley's POV and we explore what now his role is in Hell :-).
> 
> I'm sorry this chapter took me so long, but life got in the way. Hopefully the next one won't take so long. But, at least, this chapter is the longest yet, so wahoo :-).
> 
> (Btw. I had to rewrite this chapter several times since the first few drafts turned up to be kind of angsty. Bad trouble-causing serpent!)

 

Crowley's apartment had a lot of rooms, some locked and some not, but only one of them was truly warded against other unworldly beings. Not that it would actually stop a truly powerful demon, but still, the thought of any protection was nice.

 

With his angel sleeping, it was this room Crowley now headed to.

 

His office.

 

The office was a very luxurious place. There was an old and massive table adorned with beautiful carvings. There was a big leather armchair. There were several paintings with huge gilded frames, one of which was a huge painting of the Serpent of Eden tempting Eve.

 

These things were not conjured by Crowley, no - he could not imagine these things without seeing them first or them having been described heavily to him because his mind had been wiped. He took these objects from the 'Rooms with Stuff'.

 

Demons liked to sin and, especially, to steal. They often ventured to the human world, took something and brought it back. Sometimes it was something pretty and shiny or at least interesting (taken by the smarter demons) and sometimes it could be a rock (taken by the less smart demons). The thing was that it was the _act_ of stealing itself that was important for the demons. Then they quickly lost interest in the stolen thing. So they put it the room with other similarly acquired objects. And since demons were not very imaginative, they called it the ' _Room with Stuff_ '.

 

There were thousands Rooms with Stuff in Hell.

 

One of Crowley's favourite hobbies nowadays was to explore these rooms (and of course to take whatever caught his eye). That's how he got so many books and that's also how he furnished many of his rooms, his magnificent office included.

 

Yes, there were many beautiful things, but since it was an office, there were also cabinets with files (the Hell has tried to go digital several times but it never quite happened), sheets of paper with Crowley's handwritten notes scattered on furniture and also several notice boards with pinned notes (Crowley didn't actually use the boards that much but kept them because he thought they look very nifty there).

 

And there was flowerpot with a plant. 

 

Crowley found it through one of his searches through the Rooms with Stuff. It must have been a very recent addition since it was still alive (though a little wilted). For some inexplicable reason Crowley couldn't bear to leave it there. To die lonely and forgotten. 

 

So he took it.

 

But nobody could say he was soft for doing so, he thought fervently, because he then did his best to frighten the little green thing into being most a beautiful and verdant! (After supplying it with water of the highest quality and miracled the sunlight, of course). He decided to name the plant Hamlet after the book he took that day as well.

 

Yes, Crowley thought up a great way to properly raise Hamlet. He would yell at it and tell it all the horrible things that would happen to it if it failed to be gorgeous. He would scare it into submission.

 

There was only one problem.

 

Hamlet was a little shit.

 

Crowley felt that the frightening tactics and the shouting _should_ work. That perhaps it already _did_ in his past. But for some reason, Hamlet wasn't greatly bothered by it all. It didn't shake when Crowley yelled (though it seemed concerned that his owner is upset) and it didn't show his green leaves to Crowley for inspection to avoid a punishment but rather to _brag_ about it.

 

Yes, Hamlet was really a disappointment, but Crowley had already got used to it, so it stayed.

 

One of the very recent additions to the office was a mirror.

 

He got this idea from a story about a witch who used mirrors to spy on the world. So, today when Aziraphale was sleeping, he took very small mirror pieces and placed it in all rooms, then he miraculously connected the pieces to this mirror, so, anytime he wanted he could watch what’s happening in any room of his apartment. Yes, perhaps he did so that he could miracle himself here to his office and spy on Aziraphale just before he came home from work and announced himself, but perhaps he did it also that he could miracle himself here in the middle of the day just for a minute and draw some calm by watching his angel in secret.

 

Crowley entered the office.

 

Hamlet waved happily at him and Crowley glared at it. The plant didn’t seem to notice and did some sort of a happy dance.

 

Crowley checked again that nobody was watching and then miracled a double of himself sitting in the armchair reading a report. Since the office was so warded, it should be more difficult to look in to it and so the double should be seem real enough for anyone having a look.

 

Then Crowley walked towards the large painting with the Serpent of Eden and pressed a secret spot on the frame. Something clicked and one side of the frame moved a little bit. The demon pulled this side of the frame towards himself revealing the painting to be a secret door which led to his secret room.

 

This room also had a magnificent table, paintings, notice boards, papers and even more luxurious armchair. But the _content_ of what was on these boards and papers was much different… and much more dangerous to have.

 

What a morons, thought Crowley. How could they believe that he would not ask questions? That he would ever agree with _not knowing_?! 

 

He **Fell** for asking questions, for Hell’s sake! And, for him, he fell only months ago. Perhaps for the others was now Satan: The Ruler, The Evil Number One, and The One To Be Frightened of. 

 

But for Crowley? 

 

For him Satan was still kind of the passionate guy who was making speeches in Heaven about the revolution. Yes, of course he feared him, but it was the general fear - in the same way he feared other demons, more precisely: he feared what they could do to him. But _The Fear_ ? The Fear, the being who could _perhaps_ scare him enough not to ask questions was only God himself (and since Crowley _had_ Fell, it seemed that even that was not enough). 

 

So, he made a secret room to search for the cause of his mind wipe, of what happened, why it happened, could it not have happened, was it his fault, or does he need to get revenge, what was he doing all these 6000 years, was he on Earth, how long was he there, what were his most notable deeds, and so on. 

 

Crowley had so many questions.

 

And now it seemed, he had even more of them.

 

And it was Aziraphale who brought them.

 

After _that_ remark from Belial, Crowley checked a couple of things and found out that he should not have been able to heal Aziraphale - he acted on instinct at the time. There was not much written about healing demons - and even less about healing angels - in the Hell’s Lore Books he had access to. What was known was that at least eighty demons were always needed to heal one of the demons or angels. There were rumours that it could have been done with at least eight angels, back then, when they still had powers, but those were only rumours. But there was nothing explaining how he _by himself_ could have healed Aziraphale..It would take an incredible powerful being to do it alone.

 

Probably not even Satan could heal him! 

 

And Crowley was certainly _not_ more powerful than Satan. 

 

It was a mystery.

 

Aziraphale also called him ‘Crowley’ one time. Crowley. Not _Crawly_ , a name that the demon greatly disliked, but _Crowley_ , a name that for some reason resonated with him and - when he thought about it hard, his fellow demons also used several times by accident although they tried to always cover it up then with coughing and stuff. So, that had been his name. And Aziraphale _knew_ it.

 

Then there was the fact that Aziraphale seemed to hate being called ‘angel’ by the other demons. But not by Crowley. Probably he already _had_ been called that by the demon before the War.

 

In conclusion: they must have met at one point or another. 

 

Could perhaps Aziraphale tried to get Crowley to work for Heaven? And that was the reason Crowley ended up in his current predicament? But if so, why wouldn’t they punish the angel more? Not make him one of the _Shared Ones_? And perhaps ensuring that he would never meet the demon again?

 

Not that it would explain the healing mystery. Hmm. There was something more to it. And he will get to the bottom of it!

 

Aziraphale didn’t volunteer the information (the demon had a feeling that there was some information the angel knew, and that he had not been mind wiped as well), but Crowley feared the angel might have a good reason for not telling him anything. Perhaps he was threatened or tortured, perhaps a curse has been put on him so an alarm would sound to someone if Aziraphale talked about it... Crowley didn’t know the reason and wasn’t about to push the angel. He will find out other way. Though, when he does, he will probably have to _punish_ the angel for not telling him, he grinned as his thoughts took a different route. 

 

Mmm, yesss, Crowley’s hands (and also other parts of his body) have been quite looking forward to spank those buttcheeks, to see those two beautiful smarting red globes and to caress them. Perhaps to kiss and lick them. And to knead them with some ointment. Maybe to put them in some white lace underwear.

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he said to his erection that quickly appeared after Crowley’s train of thoughts found his fantasies.

 

“Go away,” he glared at it.

 

The erection stayed.

 

Alright, perhaps he can devote a little moment to deal with this and dream about all those wicked things he will do to his angel. Including an introduction to an orgasm.

 

It was much later when all his new thoughts (those not naughty ones) have been written down and a new notice board regarding Aziraphale added, that he joined his angel in bed, hugging him and cuddling him.

 

* * *

 

Crowley woke up to a wonderful and very pleasurable feeling. His first coherent thoughts were that it must be the angel waking him by his mouth, but as he was waking up more he realized that it didn’t feel like a blow job.

 

He willed himself to wake up even more to solve this pleasant mystery.

 

He found out that it was the angel’s hand what is providing the service ‘downstairs’ while the angel’s mouth was on his neck, sucking it softly.

 

“Mmnh?” Crowley tried and failed to say something.

 

“Oh, good morning, master. My apologies, but your wings cocooned us too tightly for me to get to your cock with my mouth, so I improvised. I hope it’s alright,” said the angel and kept kissing his neck.

 

It was certainly more than alright. Crowley tried to put this to words, “Ssmmm-hmmm.”

 

Close enough.

 

As Crowley’s wings freed Aziraphale and he started to move down to finish the demon with his mouth, Crowley got an idea. “Wait. Continue with your hand on my cock and use your mouth to worship my nipples.”

 

The angel moved his head to Crowley’s chest and for a moment focused his gaze on his rosebuds, as if to form a battle plan.

 

Then, as he continue stroking the demon’s cock, he moved his head to the right nipple and breathed a warm air on it. The tip of his tongue then started circling the nipple, making soft circles on the skin around it, not touching the nipple itself at all for now. 

 

Crowley in fascination watched the focused gaze on his angel’s face and his own nipple which started hardening more and more.

 

The angel gave it first tentative lick and the whole Crowley’s body shuddered in pleasure and bucked up.

 

After a couple of more licks Aziraphale took it in his mouth, the tongue still working on it inside, alternatively licking it and teasing it with the tongues’ tip. The demon almost startled when the angel used his free hand and started making circles around his until now forgotten left nipple, the circles being similar to those his tongue had been performing before on the right one.

 

This went for a while and Crowley in this amazing bliss did his best to keep his eyes open, or at least half-lidded, so he was still able to see what his angel considered a ‘nipple worship’.

 

Then, simultaneously, Aziraphale’s mouth started sucking and his free hand started kneading the other nipple. There was a shout of ‘FUCK’  and only after a moment Crowley realized that it had been him. And, was that a smug grin that he just saw on his angel’s face?

 

As the demon was writhing under the pleasure and softly bucking with his hips, the angel’s strokes quickened. He glanced the other nipple probably thinking whether he should switch his mouth and hand, but then changed his mind and integrated teeth and nail grazing very softly to his ministrations.

 

That was too much for Crowley and he came with a loud shout.

 

* * *

 

They moved to the kitchen where Aziraphale showed him another recipe called ‘scrambled eggs’. It didn’t seem difficult, but the angel bemoaned the absence of something called ‘bread’. They had it with a sausage and vegetable though and it was quite good. Was this bread thing even better?

 

Crowley remembered that beside mana his angel talked about regular human meals in order to put some weight on him. Which was a goal he avidly encouraged as he considered the angel too thin. Crowley couldn’t wait to have more of Aziraphale to caress and fondle.

 

“So,” said the serpent, “you have my permission to be in the Book room to search for the serpents or browse the books about cooking and baking, but nothing more. You can also try to create something in the Kitchen (as they agreed to call this room) if you want. The alarm is set for a quarter to three and you have the oil for you to prepare yourself for me. Understood?” he asked firmly.

 

“Yes, master,” the angel lowered his eyes with a blush. “When you come back, I will be nicely prepared for you.”

 

“Good,” said Crowley, pulled his angel for a hard kiss and miracled himself out.

 

* * *

 

In the last four months Crowley thought a lot why they pulled him out of the Pit and ‘gave him another chance’. Only a naive fool would believe them that it was because of the one hundred celebrations of the war and them being merciful because of it. Riiiight.

 

No, it was certainly not because of that.

 

The conclusion Crowley had so far was that they actually _needed_ him. Well, perhaps not needed as such, but him working again did certainly make their life easier.

 

Because Hell was a mess. After the War had been won, Satan decided that they will stay on Earth, so they stayed. And kept Hell and Heaven going. More or less.

 

But even though it was functioning, after a fashion, it was certainly not functioning _effectively_. There were many departments, many files, many attempts to use their procedures on Heaven and many demons who were now more interested in having fun with their slaves than working.

 

And when they looked back who had been usually responsible for bringing techniques that made Hell run more smoothly, a certain demon’s name kept appearing

 

A demon who became quite infamous in the last hundred years, The Punished One.

 

So they pulled him out of the Pit, wiped his mind, called him Crawly again, tried to scare him into not asking about his past and gave him a job that was almost a punishment as well.

 

To audit Hell. 

 

To read all possible files about the past and current procedures, to observe departments and speak with the demons running them about their methods and knowledge (which was often a contraindication to what other demons said). And to make plans forward to optimize it all.

 

Not only it was utterly exhausting, but Crowley was usually greatly annoyed by it all. The demons were often dismissive and scornful, not outright telling him so, but knowing that he had been in Hell’s bad books and using it as an excuse to screw with him. Making him read tons of absolutely useless files, not having time for him or postponing their appointments, ‘forgetting’ to tell him important things and other small things to make his life more difficult.

 

But he kept going. And so far the Dark Council seemed content with his work. They even hinted that if he proves himself they might send him to Earth to observe the mortals and steal their methods! (This gave Crowley an impression that he has done this before and hence had been stationed on Earth for some time). And wouldn’t that be brilliant? Him and Aziraphale on Earth, enjoying all the interesting things the mortals thought up. The life there. The food. 

 

Yes, it was certainly something to look forward to.

 

Crowley entered Asakku’s office.

 

“Hello Assssakku,” he hissed not bothering to control his syllables, “I am here for the filesss.” 

 

“Crawly! Oh, was our meeting today?” he said the demon who was laying on a dark green sofa, his feet resting on the back of an angel who was on all four serving as the demon’s foot stool. The angel was also blindfolded with a penis gag in his mouth, nipple clamps with a couple of weights on the chain connecting them and a large dildo sticking out of his ass.

 

“Yesss.”

 

“I totally forgot,” said Asakku unbothered, “You don’t mind if we reschedule to the next week, do you?”

 

“I _do_ mind actually,” said Crowley and kept staring at Asakku without blinking (Crowley was great at staring without blinking). “So, get off your arse and fetch me the files.” 

 

Just because the demons _tried_ to screw with him didn’t mean that the serpent let them.

 

“You forget who are you talking!” lost Asakku his calm and hissed at his visitor.

 

“I am talking to the demon who can be reassigned to clean the Hellhounds’ teeth when I am done with the audit, so get moving,” hissed Crowley back much more successfully.

 

Asakku glared and went to fetch the files.

 

The next hour Crowley spent in his work office reading the files until a door opened and an unplanned guest entered. 

 

Well, two guests actually. There was Belial in his purple and gold robes and there was an angel who shuffled inside on all four, Belial holding the chain connected to the slave’s choker collar. 

 

“Crawly, my demon!” he said jovially.

 

“Belial,” answered Crowley cautiously. 

 

“I said to myself that I will drop by and bring you some leaflets,” said The Trainer as he made his way to the chair at Crowley’s desk. He looked at Crowley’s massive table that covered the view of his lower body. “Have you got your lovely slut here? Perhaps sucking you right now? Or did you leave him at home nicely tied up, your cum still inside his ass, stuffed with toys and decorated with clamps?” he asked as he sat down. His slave automatically kneeled between his master’s legs, used his mouth to put aside the robe and took Belial’s cock in his mouth.

 

Crowley didn’t answer and took the leaflets.

 

“The first is about watersports I promised you. Though it’s an old one, unfortunately, it’s missing my latest invention: you mix your piss with your cum, freeze it in the shape of a cock and put it in the slave’s mouth to suck on it, keeping it in place with a strap device I invented. If you put a little power in the freezing spell, the whores keep choking on it for hours, the cum and piss slowly melting in their mouths. Check my catalogue if you want to buy the device, though you are a clever one so you can make your own I guess.”

 

Crowley kept staring at The Trainer with what would Aziraphale called his _poker face_.

 

“The second is about piercings. I totally forgot to suggest you to pierce your bitch’s nipples since they are quite sensitive. They are pros and cons to it as the leaflet describes.”

 

The serpent didn’t move a muscle.

 

“And the third one is a leaflet about _Belkinbaku_ and also an invitation for my lecture about this in two weeks. _Kinbaku_ is a human thing with ropes where they tied their sluts to look pretty but not to hurt them. You can guess how _Belial’s Kinbaku_ , or how I shortened it: _Belkinbaku_ , differs,” he grinned.

 

“Right, thank you,” said Crowley as he miracled the leaflets to his office at home. The first two ended up in the bin, the third one on his desk.

 

“Also wanted to ask, you know, if you don’t want to swap slaves. I know, I know, your fucktoy with his unmarked skin is very valuable, but this slut is trained to perfection. Sucks cock like it was born to it, is very creative with the phrases and cries most prettily. Right, cunt? Say to my demon friend how much you would like to be his,” he pulled the slave from his cock.

 

“I would love to be your slave, sir, I would desire nothing more that be your cumdump, to wear pegs on my useless cock and balls for you, sir, I love being whipped and painted with hot wax, sir, if you allow me to lick your piss from the floor and choke myself-”

 

“Enough,” interrupted Crowley, “No. No swapping. If I ever change my mind I’ll let you know.” _Which will be never. You will never ever touch my angel again, you bastard._

 

Belial sighed, but didn’t seem surprised, “Hear that, toy? This is your fault. You were not begging prettily enough. It will be The Cage for you today, I think.”

 

“Master, please-”

 

“ _Stop_. You can beg me to change my mind at home,” said Belial, set the choker collar more tightly and said his goodbyes to Crowley.

 

Crowley spent a little bit of time reading the files. Before he headed to his next appointment he miracled himself to his office at home and spent two minutes watching Aziraphale in his new spying mirror. The angel seemed to have build kind of a book fort, but since all the books in the fort seemed to be about cooking or baking, it was alright. 

 

Crowley smiled, looked at his angel for one last time and miracled himself out again.

 

The door to Tannin's office were locked and there was a paper taped to it with 'I AM OUT, COME BACK LATER' on it.

 

Crowley kicked down the door.

 

Tannin, who was until now sleeping on his divan, startled and fell from it. "Wh...what?"

 

"Tannin, I am here for the reports you promised me," purred Crowley as he sauntered around the office. The serpent had found Tannin's files to be severely lacking and instructed him to write down reports on several topics. That was two weeks ago. Today was the day he should hand them over.

 

"The reports? Well… that is..." 

 

"Do you have them?"

 

“...No. But, perhaps, if you stop by again the next week-”

 

“The day after tomorrow I am handing in my report for the Dark Council. I will mention that I was unable to finish the evaluation of your department since you didn’t complete your assignment. Also that you sleep in your work hours,” said Crowley and inspected his nails.

 

“W-wait, no, no! Please, I will start right now! They will be finished by tomorrow, I will stay up the whole night if I have to!” panicked the demon.

 

Crowley nodded, “Stop by _my_ office tomorrow. If I don’t have them by lunch you won’t like the result,” he said and sauntered out of the door.

 

He had three more appointments today. The last one he spent listening to Kroni going in circles about his department, smirking inconspicuously when he managed to contradict himself in some way and thus introduce confusion into Crowley’s notes that the demon were dutifully making.

 

At 14:55 Crowley felt like a coiled spring. He glowered so much that, as he stalked to his office from Kroni, he managed to scare a lesser demon who encountered him. 

 

In general, every day he did his best to be productive but not to show any weakness. To deal with the demons who were undermining his efforts, knowingly or not. He was successful, but it was incredibly exhausting and taxing.

 

It was good that it was the end of his work day because he had _No. Patience. Left._ He was at the end of his tether.

 

He miracled himself home, to the Book room. 

 

Aziraphale was laying on the sofa with spread legs and having three fingers inside himself.

 

The tether snapped.

 

With one fluid movement Crowley grabbed him from behind the sofa, pulled him to himself, bend him over it and plunge himself deeply into him.

 

He grabbed the angel’s hips with a bruising grip and starting fucking him hard and fast.

 

Yessss, thisss was what he needed. His inner annoyance, that gradually built itself in his chest for the whole day with every hurdle and every demons’ smirk, started slowly melt away as he kept immersing himself in that tight heat and the pleasure travelled through his body.

 

His angel. Only his. His to own. His to fuck. His to possess. Yesss.

 

It didn’t take long and Crowley came.

 

He collapsed on the top of Aziraphale, his breathing out of control after the desperate fucking. 

 

He spend a couple of moments like that, still inside Aziraphale, breathing his scent. 

 

Then Crowley snapped his fingers and miracled them into bed. Suddenly he felt incredibly spent and tired. 

 

They were laying on their side, Aziraphale’s back pressed to Crowley’s chest. The demon’s cock still inside the angel.

 

Crowley hugged his angel even closer and hid them inside his wings, “Dem’ns w’re mean t’ m’,  feel tir’d, ‘ngel, sleep?” he mumbled in Aziraphale’s neck as kept slipping into sleep.

 

Right before he lost consciousness he may or may not have heard, “Rest, my dear, I’m here, everything is alright now, I’ve got you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not worry, if Crowley and Aziraphale ever leave Hell, Hamlet is going with them ;-).


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter. Wahoo! And in this one... :-) :-) :-)

 

When Crowley started waking up, his first thought was that, to his great surprise, he was feeling quite rested. 

 

His arms were hugging something warm and smelling great ( _that's your angel_ , supplied his brain), he no longer felt any tension ( _because of yours hard fucking the said angel_ , added his brain again) and his cock was in a warm and peculiar place ( _the ANGEL again_ , said the brain exhaustedly).

 

Crowley slowly woke up and remembered the events of this day. 

 

He pulled himself from his slave and quickly went to check if there was any damage.

 

"Master?" said Aziraphale and wanted to sit up as well, but Crowley's hand kept him still lying.

 

The demon started inspecting the angel's butthole looking for blood or tears there. With great relief he found none. "Did I hurt you?"

 

"No, master, I am fine," answered Aziraphale who was glad that Crowley doesn't see his face which for some inexplicable reason went red when the demon's fingers pulled apart his buttcheeks and started gently prodding his arsehole. 

 

Crowley nodded and softly caressed the bruise in the shape of a hand on the angel's hip. He was sure that there was its twin on the other hip as well. And probably that it had hurt a little bit when he had been making these bruises and that they will hurt upon pressure until they heal.

 

But he didn't want to heal them by his 'mysterious healing power', no. Because he _liked_ marking his angel and then enjoyed looking and admiring these marks. It stirred up something possessive and primal in him. Something that he will not give up - well, he _was_ a demon after all.

 

But still, he will put an ointment on it to lessen his angel's pain and promote natural healing - hmm, he was a demon, but probably he was not a very _good_ one.

 

Crowley vanished his cum that was seeping from the lovely butthole and decided that they will take a bath.

 

As they made they way to the bathroom, Aziraphale was watching the serpent. How often Crowley's looks wandered to his bruised hips.

 

The demon's look was quite an interesting mixture: there was want, there was guilt, there was pride, there was remorse…

 

It seemed to Aziraphale that Crowley's demonic nature collided with him being a good person. Or was there more to it?

 

As they entered the bathroom, his master ordered for Aziraphale to wash him.

 

The angel was glad that he was still stretched from the sex before because he found quite probable that this will end up like the last time - with him riding the demon's cock.

 

As he was washing the demon though, he noticed that Crowley keeps weirdly moving his neck as if having a crick in it. 

 

Aziraphale frowned, it had been probably caused by the stress from dealing with the 'mean demons'.

 

"Perhaps a neck and upper back massage, master?" said the angel.

 

Crowley blinked - what a superb idea!

 

After his master happily agreed, Aziraphale pulled out the massage oil from the cabinet, and manoeuvred the demon to sit and float in the water leaning against the edge of the pool, while Aziraphale sat on the edge that way that he had Crowley's back between his legs.

 

He started slowly working on the hard knots in the demon's back, working his way up from muscles between the shoulder blades and the spine.

 

Judging by the intensity of Crowley's moans he must have been doing it right.

 

* * *

 

Crowley was in heaven (figuratively). While the hard fucking his slave removed the overall tension, his neck and the upper back muscles were still were quite stiff and in knots. But it seemed that the slave knew how to removed even these. Magnificent. Why Crowley didn't think of it himself?

 

Actually, the _reason_ why Crowley didn't think of it himself was hidden in his subconsciousness, in one of the many lectures he received about the state of Hell, its functioning, its methods and… the proper slave handling.

 

One of the fundamental rules regarding slaves in Hell was not to let them access your unprotected neck from behind.

 

Because that tempted them to snap it.

 

Even now sometimes slaves used the unexpected opportunity or simply lost their minds and attacked their masters. And on very rare occasions, they succeeded in killing them.

 

Not that the demons or the angels could be truly killed by the brute force only. For the _true_ destruction of a demon Holy Water was needed (and there was not a drop of it in Hell) and for the destruction of an angel Hellfire was necessary to be used.

 

When a demon or an angel was killed without these, Satan could resurrect them. 

 

Though, if a demon died from an attack by an angel, Satan was not very keen on resurrecting the said demon quickly - he believed that the demons should be careful when playing with their toys - so the dead demon was usually resurrected after ten years or so.

 

The angel that attacked his master - whether the attack was successful or not - was given a truly horrible punishment. Not a destruction by Hellfire, no, that would be too merciful. Any angel that tried to attack a demon was sent for a couple of years to retraining.

 

To Belial.

 

All this Crowley had been told, but didn't occur to him right now. The idea that his angel could attack him didn't cross his mind at all.

 

Well, attacking Crowley didn't cross Aziraphale's mind either.

 

* * *

 

After an hour of the massage Crowley felt like a new person (well, demon).

 

They left the bath and he let his slave use a fluffy towel to dry him. Then he surprised his angel when he returned the favour.

 

After that the demon summoned an ointment, willed it to have pain numbing and healing abilities and started to coating the angel's bruised hips.

 

And if he spent doing this longer than necessary, caressing and admiring his marks on his angel then what.

 

When he was done with that they moved to the Book Room where Crowley explored Aziraphale's book fort with great interest.

 

"Wow. Is this how humans store books? It looks really cool - though a little impractical when you want to get a book that's on the bottom," admired it Crowley.

 

Aziraphale went a little pink as if embarrassed, "Uhm, no, master, they use bookshelves, I just… I just felt like doing something silly."

 

"Bookshelves?" asked the demon curiously and thought that his angel looks incredibly cute blushing like this.

 

They moved to the sofa where they sat, Crowley put his feet to the angel's lap and summoned the massage oil. His angel had such talented hands.

 

As Aziraphale tended to his master's feet he started explaining bookshelves in great detail. And bookshops. And libraries. And indexing systems.

 

When, much later, he finished, Crowley asked, "So, which one did you have on Earth - a bookshop or a library?"

 

Aziraphale startled, "Master?"

 

The demon gave him a knowing ' _Oh, come on_ ' look.

 

Aziraphale went pink again and smiled, "A bookshop, master."

 

Crowley nodded and hummed to himself.

 

After a while during which he seemed to be contemplating something he said, "Perhaps I could enlarge this room, miracle up bookshelves - they don't sound complicated - and get more books. It seems that sorting and cataloguing them is something that you would enjoy."

 

The angel's eyes got impossibly wide and his jaw dropped leaving the mouth in a shocked 'o'.

 

"Right?" said Crowley innocently.

 

"Gnnnnhkkk-nnnhhh!" tried and failed to answer Aziraphale though he managed to nod vigorously.

 

"Of course this… _privilege…_ would be on condition of your good behaviour," smirked the demon.

 

Aziraphale quickly got on his knees in front of the sofa and reached to put aside his master's tunic at his waist so he could envelop him in his mouth.

 

Crowley, pleasantly surprised, halted his hand, "I meant in general, angel, though _this_ will certainly be welcomed later," he said and gave his angel a wink as he gestured for him to return to his seat and to continue in the foot massage. 

 

Aziraphale, still dazed from the idea of his big private library that he could sort and resort and manage, nodded and returned to his job.

 

After he calmed down a little bit he asked, "Where do you get the books, master?" He didn't think that demons would have libraries nor that Crowley would be allowed on Earth, and the only demon he knew that owned his own book collection was Belial (though all the books _there_ were associated with exotic sex practices, pain and torture).

 

Crowley explained Rooms with Stuff.

 

"... so there is _everything._ Curiously, there are a lot of socks - always though only _one_ of the pair. There must be a lot of people of on Earth having tons of incomplete pairs of socks and wondering where did the rest go."

 

Aziraphale frowned since through the centuries even a couple of _his_ socks went missing. So that's where they went?!  

 

"What about food?" asked the angel. "If a demon steals something that can be eaten and it ends up in one of these rooms - doesn't it become mouldy and then make the room… unpleasant?"

 

"Nothing survives in Hell without help. Not even mould," explained Crowley and then pensively added, "I had to perform a couple of miracles to keep Hamlet alive."

 

"What?!" exclaimed Aziraphale. Hamlet? _Their_ play? The one that they visited together and then Crowley miracled to be successful when Aziraphale asked him to?

 

"Oh yeah, a plant of mine. The same day I found this plant I also found nearby a book with the same name and I liked it, so I gave the plant the book's name. I should probably read it some day."

 

Aziraphale blinked in confusion.

 

"He's a little shit though," grumbled Crowley. "Is not intimidated by me at all and is cheerful and green and happy and..." the demon noticed the angel's focused gaze. "I would introduce you but he's in my Office Room here where I have some secret work demon stuff so you probably shouldn't see it, and Hamlet doesn't like to leave his desk there - ehm - _my_ desk there. Whenever I wanted to carry him around and show him some new things in other rooms he kept trying to hold on the desk by his twigs and swatted my hands."

 

Aziraphale bit his lip as to not to laugh at the described picture.

 

Crowley solemnly sighed, "Yeah, I know."

 

And then their gazes met and they both started laughing.

 

Crowley said, "I will think of a way for you two to meet though."

 

"I would like that," smiled Aziraphale.

 

* * *

 

Later, Aziraphale took his master to the Kitchen and described his today's - quite unsuccessful - attempt to bake bread in the oven. Then he added that he had heard about something called a 'bread making machine' that should make the bread making more easy

 

"I shall try to find a picture of it in one of the books, master. Perhaps you could then try to look for it in the Rooms with Stuff on one of your exploration visits?" asked the angel.

 

"Mmm-hmm," agreed Crowley and then added, "Would you like to come with me at some point? There are no other demons there usually."

 

Aziraphale beamed, "I would love that, master."

 

Crowley seemed pensive, "Is there anything else that I should look for there? Or miracle for you? Perhaps to use as a reward? What I mean is - is there anything you would like for yourself? That would make you happy?" asked the demon and added cheekily, "Besides books of course."

 

Aziraphale swallowed. Should he? Shouldn't he?

 

"I… that is… master… perhaps..."

 

"Yes?"

 

"I am naked all the time and… are there any clothes that - only sometimes perhaps - that you wouldn't mind me wearing?" said Aziraphale and realized that he should have put the question differently, maybe to ask for a tunic or something like that because the demon's thoughts took this question and his naughty brain gave it an _utterly_ different meaning. He looked at Aziraphale with a hungry smile and and his gaze centered around the angel’s chest.

 

"Yesss," hissed Crowley as he quickly closed the distance between them and started stroking and fondling the angel's body. His chest, his hips, his stomach, his thighs and his butt. "In one magazine I saw a men's corsssset and I think you would look a great in that. I would choose light blue for you. With a lot of lacessss and ribonsss, hugging your lovely hipsss, " he caressed the the hips with his words, "It would end just in the middle of your nipplesss, ssso it would partly cover and partly reveal them while teasssing them all the time," Crowley's hands moved to the angel's nipples and started gently rubbing them and then kneading them. The demon's tunic was quite tented and his pupils were wide with want.

 

The serpent's hands stayed on the nipples, playing with them, "Sssuch perfect little rosebudsss. Miiine," he said he started softly tugging on them and pinching them, "mine to play with, mine to-"

 

"Perhaps I could suck you now, master?" interrupted the angel his master's thoughts.

 

Crowley blinked as he returned from his fantasies to reality. 

 

The demon was hesitating, obviously wishing for something different than a simple blowjob. 

 

Aziraphale wondered if this will be the day that Crowley will want to try nipple clamps on him, though hopefully a kinder version than the one Belial had gifted him.

 

It seemed that the serpent came to a decision.

 

He grabbed Aziraphale and miracled them to the bedroom, "On the bed, on all four."

 

Oh. Alright then. He was still a little sore from their previous not very kind sexual encounter, but it will be probably less painful than his nipples being played by the use of clamps or pegs.

 

The angel assumed the position and noticed that as Crowley positioned himself behind him as well, he miracled a bowl of oil. Surprisingly a bigger one than usual.

 

"Press your thighs together," ordered his master.

 

Confused the angel did as he was told and - oh. Crowley's hand started oiling not his _butthole_ but his _thighs_ , realized Aziraphale happily.

 

It didn't stop there though. As Crowley's hard cock started pushing himself between his thighs, fucking them, Crowley's hand continued oiling Aziraphale. He started at his thighs, continued over butt to his his hips, to his stomach, his chest, and yes, of course, his nipples. The demon's took extra time there. His hands then, as he continued fucking his thighs, kept roaming on Aziraphale's oiled body and, after a little bit of stroking this or that, always returning to his nipples and kneading them for some time.

 

Aziraphale had to concentrate to understand what was the demon saying between the moans and hissing - most of it were the words _yesss_ and _mine_.

 

After a while, as the serpent’s speed and thrusts became more chaotic, Crowley hissed, "You _are_ mine, aren't you?" he pinched his nipples though not that painfully.

 

"Yes, master."

 

A little harder pinch, "Tell me. Tell me how you are mine. My ssslave. My toy to fuck. Tell me how you like when I do this," another hard pinch instructing what should Aziraphale describe and also as a warning that this could became dangerous for the angel very quickly if he doesn’t please his master.

 

"I am yours, master. I'm yours to fuck and I love when you play with my nipples. I would love to wear the light blue corset for you that would partly show them and inspire you think of many things you could do to them. Perhaps I could also wear a light blue butt plug that would stick from my hole-"

 

Crowley took himself into his hand and came all over Aziraphale's back and butt.

 

He was heavily breathing.

 

Then he kept his previous oiling the angel, now mixing the oil with his cum, so the majority of the angel was soon covered with the mixture of cum and oil.

 

"Beautiful," muttered the demon.

 

After he spent a while admiring his work Crowley sighed, said that he has to work some more in his home Office Room for a couple of hours and will later join Aziraphale in bed. Then quickly left the bedroom.

 

* * *

 

Aziraphale hummed as he stood in the waterfall that served as a shower. When he had been investigating the spa resorts back at Earth for a demonic influence he had tried several times various body wrap treatments (his favourite was the chocolate one), which left his skin soft and smooth. He wondered if this one will have a similar effect?

 

As he massaged a shampoo to his hair he pondered his demon. Poor Crowley! He seemed to have a lot of pent up aggression from dealing with those ‘mean demons’ and now they were even forcing him to work another hours at home! Bastards!

 

* * *

 

Crowley made a quick way to his Office Room and as he closed the door behind him, he tiredly leaned against the the door and put his head in his hand. Poor Aziraphale! Crowley usually tried to control himself at least a little bit, not to lose himself too much in their sexual encounters so as not to remind Aziraphale of his previous masters (Bastards! All of them!) too much but this one seemed to get away from him. Really! Calling him a toy and forcing him to deliver one of those phrases similar to what Belial had spoken about! Crowley was such an idiot! Tomorrow he should visit a couple of Rooms with Stuff and find some books for the angel, and perhaps that bread machine. 

 

Crowley was becoming quite confused with himself. On the one hand, he was a demon. Not a good being. He _liked_ sex and he had a _lot_ of fantasies that he wanted to bring to life. And Aziraphale was his angel. His slave. By the Hell’s directives an object to be used (actually, the more unkindly the better). Crowley shouldn’t care at all about the angel’s feelings or likings. But on the _other hand,_ Aziraphale was… his angel. But somehow the words had entirely different meaning. Aziraphale was his to protect and to care for. To cherish.

 

Crowley frowned into his hands. He will have to find a way how figure it all out and make it work. And he was _good_ at making things work.

 

He took a deep breath as a certain thought entered his brain.

 

Yes. That’s it. 

 

He will have to find a way for Aziraphale to enjoy sex. The angel _did_ say that his body was capable of an erection. And Crowley certainly wanted to be the first one to introduce his angel to an orgasm. To watch his face as he experiences it for the first time. To savour every moan and every sharp breath, to-

 

Oh fuck, his cock started to become interested again. 

 

Crowley took his face from his hands and glared at his crotch. No, he can’t lose himself in the fantasies, even such lovely ones. He has a plan to make to arouse the angel. Preferably while having his master’s cock inside him. 

 

Crowley will have to find out more about sex and pleasing partners in general, there should be books, right?

 

He made way to his desk where Hamlet was enthusiastically waving at him. Crowley responded with a glare and noticed that the plant seemed to have moved a couple of inches on the desk. Again.

 

Lately it seemed that Hamlet tried to shuffle himself on the desk - probably by using his twigs to push himself around. Not only Crowley came in several times to find out Hamlet in a different place on the desk than in which he had left him, some documents had been pushed out of the way or knocked down to the floor by the little shit, but twice happened that the plant and its pot were laying fallen over, the soil spilled out and covering a more or less important document.

 

Crowley yelled and threatened each time of course. For the Hamlet not to move, not to move the documents, not to push them from the desk and of course not to soil them.

 

Each time, Hamlet shrugged and made a complicated happy gesture that Crowley was unable to decipher. He was pretty sure though that the plant considers the desk as _his_ territory and the documents only as friendly hurdles left by his owner to overcome.

 

Crowley said down to his luxurious armchair and activated his spying mirror. He found Aziraphale soaking himself in the pool.

 

Hamlet attracted the demon’s attention.

 

Crowley sighed and said, “That’s Aziraphale, my angel.”

 

Hamlet gestured by his twigs and leaves.

 

“Yes, mine like you, just a little differently.”

 

Hamlet seemed to ponder it and then gestured again.

 

“Yes, he _is_ less green than you.”

 

Hamlet pointed at the soil and then at Aziraphale.

 

“No, no, it’s alright that he is less green. He _should_ be less green. He’s not a plant like you.”

 

The plant’s twigs painted a question mark in the air.

 

“He’s an angel,” said Crowley and added softly, “ _my angel_.”

 

Crowley took a new sheet of paper and written down: _OPERATION AZORG._

 

After making a couple of notes Crowley started to go through the documents on his desk. He didn’t have to work tonight, but when he was already here… oh. Crowley found the leaflet from Belial. The one describing the Belial’s Kinbaku, the art of tying the angels with ropes, leaving them in uncomfortable and painful positions or suspending them in air so all their holes were available to their masters.

 

And if Crowley could avoid the pain part, wouldn’t it be a lovely picture? His angel, several ropes symmetrically coiling around his body in intricate patterns, one going right over his nipples teasing them, his knees bent while the rope would bound the ankles to thighs and his legs spread, displaying his inviting beautiful hole which-

 

Oh for Hell’s sake! His cock was hard again.

 

Crowley’s head thudded on the desk with a loud groan.

 

He heard shuffling and was pretty sure that Hamlet was trying to get closer to sympathetically pet his head.

 

Much later, when Crowley came to the bed, Aziraphale was already sleeping. The demon lay down, hugged him from behind and softly whispered, “I am sorry, angel.”

 

Aziraphale mumbled from his sleep, “Don’t worry about it, my dear, that duck had it coming.”

 

Crowley confusedly blinked, kissed the angel’s hair and hugged him tighter.

 

* * *

 

_A week later_

 

Aziraphale was deep in thoughts. 

 

The last week was quite nice. He and Crowley established a nice little routine. At the morning Aziraphale woke the demon by his mouth or hand. After breakfast Crowley went to work and Aziraphale was working on creating his library - the demon allowed him to spend time on it as long as he started creating three section first: history books, cooking books and sex books - and also sometimes spent time experimenting in the Kitchen (the bread machine have not been found yet and he wanted a good bread, for Heaven’s sake!). The serpent usually came back at three, bent or pushed the angel against the first possible surface and fucked him quick and hard, working out his frustration from having to work with the stupid demons. Then they lazed around talking or discussing books, tried to create something in the Kitchen, or went for an exploration to one of the Rooms with Stuff - while they didn’t have any luck with the bread machine, they found many books and also a nice bottle of Château d'Yquem that Crowley said they will have some day in the future. In the evening Crowley usually took Aziraphale again - though in much kinder manner - sometimes Aziraphale rode him in the bathtub or bed, sometimes he sucked him while the demon was sitting on the sofa in the Book Room or on the throne-like chair in the Kitchen. In the late evening Crowley sent the angel to bed and went working to his office, joining him later when Aziraphale was already asleep.

 

Aziraphale was deep in thoughts because he knew his friend. And he certainly knew how he looked like when he was plotting something.

 

And Aziraphale was a hundred percent sure that Crowley have been plotting something.

 

The angel was not even certain that the demon was spending all his time at night in his Office Room. He found some clues that he was spending some time in the Book Room and also in the Kitchen.

 

Maybe though those weren’t connected to the plotting and Crowley was just wanting to experiment with food on his own? And in the Book Room he read some history books about serpents?

 

Hmm. The Kitchen perhaps. But Aziraphale thought more likely that rather than the history books Crowley read the sex books - that that was why he wanted the angel to create the section.

 

Another clue to the plotting were the thoughtful glances Crowley kept giving him when he thought the angel wasn’t looking

 

So far Aziraphale’s most likely guess to the Crowley’s endgame was some kind of a sex experiment. 

 

After all, Crowley still didn’t try on him any of the things Belial had given him or asked Aziraphale to model any corset for him. Perhaps he was thinking up a complicated scene in his head? 

 

Aziraphale drummed his fingers. What could his snake be plotting?

 

* * *

 

The next day Aziraphale woke up his master as usual by his mouth. As he was swallowing the cum and licking him clean, Crowley smiled at him lazily and told him that today he is doing something he had heard about - a ‘home office’ and he will work from home. Also that Aziraphale doesn’t need to prepare himself today. And that when he finishes his work, they will go on another treasure hunting trip to the Rooms of Stuff. 

 

The angel was pretty sure that whatever was the serpent planning, it was going to be today (really, Crowley would never make a good spy!). 

 

Their trip to the Rooms with Stuff was quite nice, they found a lot of books, wondered again why demons stole so many rocks, and marveled at the discovering of the old gramophone player (though now they will have to find some gramophone records).

 

After they returned home, to Aziraphale’s surprise Crowley shooed him out of the Kitchen and locked himself there.

 

He found the reason an hour later.

 

The demon called him in and Aziraphale immediately noticed a new small table with two same chairs facing each other. The lights in the room were dimmed and a nice smelling candle was burning on the table. There was also a vase with one red rose. In front of each seat there was a plate with what looked like a chicken steak, mashed potatoes and a salad. The bottle of Château d'Yquem they had found in the Room with Stuff was opened and there were to wine glasses ready to be filled. In front of one seat was also a wrapped gift.

 

Aziraphale blinked. What?

 

“Come in, angel. Here,” the demon smiled and handed him the present, “this is for you.”

 

Aziraphale unwrapped it and found two long tunics. One blue and one yellow. His breath hitched.

 

“You know, I was thinking about what you said, and realized that you must have meant something like this. Though there will be rules. One tunic is for the Kitchen and one is for the Book Room; you might wear them only in these and only when I am in work - or another time with my explicit permission. I like your body and I like looking at you naked. Understood?”

 

Aziraphale nodded, unable to form words, holding the soft fabric - the first true clothes he will be allowed to wear in a hundred years.

 

The demon said, “You have my permission now. How about you try the blue one?”

 

Crowley had to help still the shocked Aziraphale to put it on. When the angel looked around as if to look for a mirror, he miracled one for him.

 

“Look at you, my pretty angel,” he said smiling.

 

Aziraphale looked himself before he suddenly burst in tears and hugged Crowley, burrowing his head in the demon’s chest. 

 

Crowley utterly panicked, “Angel?! Are you… do you… you don’t like it?” he asked worriedly, afraid that he misunderstood. Or chose the wrong colour. Or the wrong cut. Or something.

 

“I love it,” mumbled Aziraphale crying and laughing both into Crowley’s clothes, “thank you.”

 

Crowley almost fainted in relief and hugged his angel, “You’re welcome. Now come to try the food. I am still not sure I got the hang of it, but well,...” 

 

“I am sure it will be delicious,” raised Aziraphale his head and gave the serpent a soft beaming smile.

 

The dinner _was_ delicious, decided Aziraphale as he sipped the delicious wine. Even the best dinner in Ritz couldn’t have been better. 

 

They were talking and laughing, and he felt great and calm. He idly wondered if he was a little bit drunk since he didn’t have the power to withstand the alcohol anymore and also that it has been a hundred years since he had a drop of it. Who cared though. Everything was beautiful. And even if Crowley will play with nipple clamps tonight, it will be worth it.

 

When they finished their talk and the wine, Crowley took him by the hand and took him to the bedroom. Aziraphale glanced around to find out any new toy or device but the only new thing were the rose petals on the bed. Huh.

 

Crowley took him to bed and helped him out of his tunic while also taking off his own. He placed Aziraphale on the bed, miracled a bowl of oil and then used _his_ fingers to prepared the angel. He took his time, stretching him properly. 

 

This was nice, thought Aziraphale as he was peacefully looking at his master who was slowly working on opening him with one hand and masturbating with the other.

 

After a while, while still working on him Crowley proved he had an excellent memory. He copied quite accurately what Aziraphale had done when he had been asked for a ‘nipple worship’, though Aziraphale thought that the forked tongue must feel different than Aziraphale’s more human one.

 

After Crowley spent some time on that, and Aziraphale was stretched to three, almost four fingers, the angel noticed that he was feeling quite… interesting. Must have been the wine.

 

Crowley now lay down and helped Aziraphale to straddle him so he would be in position to ride him. The demon’s cock nudged his entrance and Aziraphale slowly lowered himself down.

 

The angel started slowly gyrating his hips, as he often did before. Crowley’s hand found and started fondling his nipple, as it often did before. Suddenly something new happened though - Crowley’s other hand softly caressed Aziraphale’s cock.

 

The angel froze.

 

Startled, he gulped and as a deer in headlights looked at Crowley. 

 

“Shhh, angel,” said the demon soothingly. “Everything is alright.”

 

Aziraphale’s cock had never been touched by another person in a non-violent manner before. Crowley, while usually fondling every another part of his body, avoided his crotch so far. But now he moved there as well. 

 

Alright, Aziraphale took a deep breath. This was his demon after all, nothing weird about him wanting to fondle this part of the angel as well. Actually it was surprising that he did that only now.

 

Aziraphale continued moving his hips.

 

“Close your eyes, angel,” continued Crowley in his soothing voice, one of his hand continued caressing the angel’s chest and the other one started playing with the angel’s cock. Aziraphale closed his eyes.

 

“Tell me about the park you were telling me about, the one with ducks, would you describe it for me?” said Crowley softly.

 

“Mmm, nice park,” said Aziraphale while he continued, “very green, nice wooden benches. And ducks. The little buggers like bread even when it’s bad for them. It’s nicest before the sun goes down, the golden-crimson light illuminates the water, and...” as Aziraphale continued talking and moving, the weird feeling came back.

 

It actually started growing intense, weird sensations travelling through his body. And every time Crowley touched is nipple and stroked his-

 

Aziraphale opened his eye and gazed at his almost fully hard cock. Oh.

 

His gaze found Crowley’s.

 

Not only the demon was bad at being a spy. He was also bad at containing his smugness.

 

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. So _this_ was what the demon had been planning.

 

The smugness intensified.

 

Then the demon bucked up his hips at the same time as he twisted the angel's nipple a little bit.

 

OH FUCK!

 

By Crowley’s grin Aziraphale found out that he must have said that out loud, but only part of his brain was dedicated to this thought. The rest of it was on fire. Trying to concentrate on the sensations in his body. 

 

While the demon’s hand started alternating its time between the angel’s cock and his balls, the other one continued to play with the nipples and his cock in Aziraphale was hitting something inside him that caused a sparkly waves of pleasure behind the angel’s eyes - wait, when did he closed his eyes again?

 

This was absolutely maddening. Blissfully, delightfully maddening.

 

“Look at me, angel,” said a voice and Aziraphale did his best to keep his eyes open. He was not sure how well he was succeeding though, since they kept closing as new waves of pleasure travelled through his body.

 

When he heard the words, “Come, angel,” the pleasure exploded and he passed out.

 

As Crowley was washing the angel’s cum from his own chest with a warm wet towel, he looked at his sleeping angel with a satisfied smile. Operation AZORG - Aziraphale’s Orgasm - seemed like a great success.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the chapter was getting quite long, I first thought I could end it before Aziraphale started to notice Crowley's plotting and leave Azi's first orgasm for a standalone chapter, but then I realized I can't do that to you so I kept writing... hmm, I probably wouldn't make a good demon either :-).


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, is it a new chapter? It is, isn't it? :-). Sorry guys for the delay but last months have been difficult.
> 
> For those who don't want to re-read what happened in the last chapters (though I recommend a re-read :-)), here is a sum-up:
> 
> Story so far: _The War at the airfield happened and Heaven lost. The God was put to slumber and all angels were enslaved to be sexual playthings of the demons. For a hundred years and four months Aziraphale doesn’t know what happened to Crowley. At a demon party he learns that Crowley spent a hundred years in the pit after which they pulled him and wiped his mind from everything after the Fall. Crowley - well, Crawly, as he is called again - buys him. Aziraphale is devastated that his demon is no longer ‘there’, but to his great shock and delight the demon heals his new slave completely - a feat that could only be achieved with love - meaning that his friend is somewhere there after all (healed Aziraphale later arouses interest of the Hell’s Trainer and Torturer - the demon Belial). While Crowley uses the angel for pleasure, he is careful not to hurt him. Since the demon is forbidden to learn anything about his past under the threat of being destroyed, Aziraphale doesn’t tell him anything about their shared history - Crowley later starts to suspect there is something Aziraphale is not telling him but doesn’t push the issue. Crowley’s job that was assigned to him and which he hates and from which he usually returns quite bad-tempered is auditing Hell. As they are living together Crowley, while still using him as a slave and after work little rougher with him, is mostly kind to the angel, cuddling with him at night and letting him organize his books, experiment with food and have clothes; Aziraphale is teaching Crowley things about Earth that he had forgotten. Crowley in secret searches for his past and ponders the mystery of Aziraphale. Crowley has in his home office a cheerful plant Hamlet that is a little shit. As Crowley and Aziraphale are living together peacefully, discovering food and venturing to the Rooms with Stuff, the demon hatches up a plan for Aziraphale to experience his first orgasm and succeeds._
> 
> * * *

 

Aziraphale woke up to a peculiar feeling. What was happenn- ngk. Oh, oooh yes. Wha-

 

The angel opened his eyes to find out that not only his demon was already awake, but he was quite a busy little bee. 

 

Crowley was position between the angel’s legs, his one hand slowly opening Aziraphale’s entrance and the other softly stroking the angel’s half-hard cock.

 

“Good morning, angel,” said Crowley cheekily.

 

“Good morning, ma- ah! Master,” stuttered Aziraphale as the demon crooked the fingers inside him causing a wave of pleasure. Aziraphale’s hands tightly gripped the sheets, his brain doing the best to wake up since it would be a shame to miss any of this.

 

“Use one of your hands to play with your nipple,” ordered Crowley with darkened eyes.

 

 _Oh yesss,_ thought Aziraphale as his right hand starting kneading his left rosebud feeling more and more awake.

 

Suddenly Crowley withdrew his fingers and someone _whimpered_ . Oh, it must have been _him_ , thought the angel and perhaps blushed a little bit.

 

“Need something to fill your lovely little hole?” said his master, the voice rougher than usual, and, _thank Lord,_ it was followed by a sweet enormous pressure entering him.

 

Aziraphale tried to keep his eyes opened and saw himself hardening in those beautiful elegant long hands. And why was Crowley’s going so damned _slow_?! The snake was still not fully in, moving so bloody slow that he’s going to lose his mind and why-

 

The hands left his cock. _Nooo!_

 

Aziraphale’s free hand automatically reached for it and was gently swatted away. “No, no, my sweet little angel, not without my permission.”

 

“Master, may I? Please?”

 

“No,” the serpent gave him a cheerful dark look, “actually, stop touching your nipple as well.”

 

“Crowley!”

 

The demon laughed, as if not even noticing the breach of the proper master-slave etiquette.

 

“There are going to be new rules, angel,” said Crowley as Aziraphale’s hands again gripped the sheets. “Not only you are going to be nicely prepared and opened for me when I return from work, but you are going to be _hard_ for me as well,” said the demon who was still going _Too. Damned. Slow._!

 

“And then, and _only_ then when preparing yourself for me you can touch yourself like this without me being there and my explicit permission. Do you understand?” Crowley picked up the pace a little bit ( _yesss!_ ) “Even when I fuck you or have you another way you cannot touch yourself without me,” hard thrust, “directly,” another hard thrust, “allowing you to do it,” he hissed. “Also you cannot cum without my permission. Got it angel?”

 

“Faster!“ demanded Aziraphale and then as an afterthought added, “Please, master.”

 

So of course Crowley slowed down a little bit.

 

“You can now also read books about sex and put aside anything you would like to try. No trying without me of course,” smiled the fiendish demon who was again going tortuously slowly. 

 

“Yes, master. But perhaps, now master, you could fuck me properly, please?” said Aziraphale innocently.

 

His angel was quite a greedy little thing, wasn’t he? Fucking him is going to be _such fun._

 

“Mmm, perhaps if you can tell me me the new rules correctly. From yesterday as well.”

 

Oh, did his angel just almost rolled his eyes at him?

 

The angels sighed, “Use the tunics only in the Book Room and the Kitchen and only if you are out; might read about sex and put aside anything I would like to try but no trying without you; make myself not only open but also hard when you come home from work otherwise not masturbate; not cum without your permission. Now, Cr- Master, _please._ ”

 

Aziraphale was almost worried that Crowley will keep this horrible slow pace when suddenly two strong hands grabbed his wrists, put them above his head and he felt the demon’s lithe and hard frame against him, his cock deliciously trapped between them.

 

“You want me to fuck you, angel?” hissed Crowley in his ear.

 

“Yes, master please!”

 

“Sssay it.”

 

“Fuck me, fill me, touch me, I can’t take it anymore, master, please!”

 

Apparently that was enough. The demon straightened a little bit, one hand holding Aziraphale’s wrists and the other one wandering his body, from his lips to his nipples to his cock and started fucking him quick and hard.

 

Aziraphale never felt such a feeling - yesterday was the first time and he was a little out of it, but today? Today he got to _truly_ appreciate it. How it traveled across his body, how it sparkled in his nerves, that…. that _need._ He needed more, he needed it everywhere, he wanted to immerse himself and to bath in the feeling, to intensify it, he...

 

_Oh Lord, oh Lord, oh..._

 

“Come for me, angel,” said Crowley who was apparently quite very close himself.

 

OH LORD!

 

Aziraphale came… taking Crowley with him.

 

That feeling. That feeling. It was like an eating a perfectly made crêpe with delicious chocolate and heavenly cream… but completely different.

 

As Crowley let go of his hands, the angel wrapped them around the demon and draped himself across him, suddenly feeling the need to cuddle and hold his demon.

 

“I need to go to work, angel.”

 

“Nn-uh,” mumbled Aziraphale against that perfect chest.

 

“No? What will all those other demons think?”

 

“Fuck’em.”

 

The perfect chest chuckled. “Fuck’em indeed.”

 

Crowley covered them with a blanket and started gently stroking Aziraphale’s hair.

 

Aziraphale gripped him even tighter and yawned. Oh this was nice… so nice…

 

* * *

 

When Aziraphale woke he was alone and the clock read eleven.

 

The angel stretched and lay there looking at the ceiling. So… that happened. 

 

He had sex. True sex. Sex with Crowley. Crowley and he had sex.

 

He giggled. 

 

Oh dear Lord, he had sex with Crowley. And _liked it._

 

His first sex.

 

With Crowley.

 

Of course, being raped for a hundred years was technically sex, but Aziraphale _decided_ that that won’t count. _This_ was his first and he liked it and it was with Crowley. 

 

But… He frowned. Yes, it was still kind of against his will, wasn’t it - him being in no position to say no? So, should he count it?

 

 _Hmm_. He bit his lip. 

 

Well, he doesn’t have to decide now about that, does he? He can experiment and have all those orgasms and, _oh dear_ , enjoy sex with Crowley and think about it all of this later, he decided smiling.

 

Now, how about learning how to make crêpes?

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately the crêpes were not a great success, but he got to be in the Kitchen _in his new tunic_ so he didn’t mind that much.

 

Later Aziraphale did actually browse some of the books - in _his other tunic, yay! -_ in the Sex Section of his library, ehm, Crowley’s library. It seemed that a lot of them were dedicated it to just sex positions. And some of those positions were quite… spirited. Humans were truly _that_ flexible? Perhaps he should start practicing yoga?

 

When the time came he started both preparing himself and trying to get hard. The former was not a problem, but it seemed that becoming erect was.

 

Oh no. Crowley had said to him that the next time he disobeys the demon will truly punish him, so he mustn't disappoint his serpent - he was quite sure that Crowley didn’t want to whip him or cane him no more that Aziraphale wanted himself to be caned.

 

What to do?

 

He moved himself from the Book Room to the Bedroom and lay on the bed. He closed his eyes and trying to calm himself he breathed deeply.

 

Oh, Crowley’s scent.

 

That amazing, manly and powerful scent.

 

His cock gave an interesting twitch.  

 

Ohh.

 

Aziraphale wiggled a little bit to make himself comfortable and again gripped his cock fondling it slowly, this time though he tried to fill his mind with Crowley.

 

Scene, he needs a scene.

 

Perhaps the bookshop before the War? Crowley would stop by, bringing a bottle of wine, they would talk and laugh, and then end up sitting together on the sofa. What would the demon say? ‘ _How about you suck me angel, hmm? You must dream about it, no? Put your red plump lips on my cock, and kiss it all over-’,_ hmm, no, somehow that didn’t work. _That_ Crowley was clueless about sex and Aziraphale couldn’t imagine him not stuttering about it and… and somehow shy blushing Crowley wasn’t what Aziraphale needed to imagine when getting hard. He should ponder why is that later.

 

But what if _this_ Crowley and him return to Earth? That would work for a sex dream, no? Crowley would return home, bring a bottle of wine, they would talk and laugh, end up sitting on the sofa and then Crowley would _order,_ ‘ _On your knees, angel. My cock cannot wait to be sucked by that talented mouth of yours. I hope you obeyed my instructions and are wearing the new corset under the clothes. Your nipples surely cannot wait for me to play with them, isn’t that right, my perfect little slut?_ ’

 

Oh yesss, his cock was hard now. 

 

He would have a favourite pillow with a tartan pattern for kneeling in front of that sofa, well-worn from all that oral sex he would have been performing for his master. After some time of sucking him Crowley would tell him to stop and to undress himself to model the corset for him, Aziraphale would blush as usual, but-

 

“Well, well, well, isn’t this a beautiful picture,” said a real Crowley standing in the doorframe.

 

“Master,” whispered Aziraphale and followed Crowley’s pointed look to his crotch where he was _still_ touching himself. He promptly put his hands away.

 

“Good boy,” said Crowley and sauntered to him already revealing his big and hard cock.

 

Aziraphale briefly wondered how long had been Crowley watching him because the demon had half-crazed look of lust already. 

 

Without further ado Crowley flipped him over and plunged himself deep into him starting a brutal pace as usual after returning from work with those bastard demons.

 

Now though it was interesting because it while it was a little painful, _in the same time_ it was highly pleasurable, his cock trapped under him causing delicious friction. It was different than the morning sex and yet quite… interesting.

 

As the pace quickened Aziraphale wondered if he will be able to cum on order again.

 

“Come, Aziraphale.”

 

He did.

 

* * *

 

_A month later_

 

Aziraphale was soaking the bathroom pool pondering the last month. 

It has been a pretty amazing month. Their routine haven’t changed that much - only now it wasn’t only Crowley who came with their sex interactions but Aziraphale as well. 

 

So there was morning sex - and now it was not always Aziraphale who woke the other supernatural being first - after which Crowley went to work and Aziraphale was left to his own devices (he still didn’t get the crêpes completely right, damn!). There was rough sex after Crowley got from work - the demon prefered the wall sex or bend-the-angel-over-something sex but the angel still enjoyed it for some reason - Aziraphale found some literature about submission, dominance and other interesting topics and was avidly studying it. The rest of the day depended on their mood and whether Crowley had to work also at his home Office. They talked, they cooked, they explored Rooms with Stuff, they read side by side at the Book room, there were massages, blow jobs and slow sex.

 

All in all, it was pretty amazing. The angel was not only exploring sex but was also learning more about his demon.

 

On one particular day Crowley said that it was time for Aziraphale to explore a couple of rooms that had been locked for him so far. The first was his home Office from which Crowley hid the most secret demon work stuff (or so he said - Aziraphale suspected that he didn’t bother and only checked that no one was watching them) and Aziraphale met Hamlet for the first time:

 

_When they entered the Office Aziraphale thought it was very Crowley - the paintings with serpent motives and huge gold frames, the big luxurious armchair and huge ornate desk and-_

 

_“Oh Lord!” Aziraphale hurried to the plant that was lying on the floor, the pot a little cracked, the soiled spilled and… was it waving at him cheerfully?_

 

_“Oh not again,” sighed Crowley behind him and snapped his fingers. The soil reappeared in the repaired pot which levitated back on the desk. There the plant waived happily at the demon as if nothing happened._

 

_“Hamlet, Aziraphale. Aziraphale, Hamlet,” nodded the demon between them._

 

_“Nice to meet you, Hamlet,” smiled Aziraphale._

 

_The plant did a complicated dance._

 

_“The little shit says it’s nice to meet you too.”_

 

_“Crowley!“ said Aziraphale - this was actually happening more and more, Aziraphale forgetting himself and using the demon’s name instead of ‘master’. So far Crowley acted as if he didn’t hear the angel._

 

_“You know how I said that nothing survives in Hell without help? I had to use a lot of miracles to keep him alive and growing. But… I kind of overdid it. So, he developed a personality,” Crowley glared at the plant mildly, “and that personality isn’t listening to me for some reason and tries to travel the desk all the time shuffling around, often tipping over.”_

 

_“Oh. Well, perhaps you could make him a little pad with wheels, so it would be easier for him to move around?”_

 

_“He would probably only fall from the desk more often,” Crowley thought about it for a minute. “On the other hand it would be a good educational lesson for the little bugger, great idea.”_

 

That day also Crowley showed him the Green Room. This room looked like a jungle, full of trees and big green leaves - though the demon was careful not to overdo it with these ones so these were just normal green vegetation, no personalities. Crowley shyly admitted that he used this room when he wanted to be in his snake form, just slithering around there or hanging from trees. 

 

That made Aziraphale wonder if his friend had had times when he had wanted to be in his serpent form. Did Crowley had had a hidden room in his London flat as well? Or maybe not so hidden - after all he had so many plants there that it looked like a jungle a little bit. Or did he go to relax somewhere else? Or did he suppress these urges? Aziraphale would love to know.

 

The angel loved that the demon was slowly opening to him - it was still not his _Crowley_ , but he started to become _his_ Crowley.

 

The angel climbed out of the pool and used a fluffy towel to dry himself. 

 

He decided to spend a couple of moments in bed to do a little more thinking.

 

Because he was again sure that Crowley was, well, if not _plotting_ something, then surely _working on_ something. Something that involved Aziraphale and sex judging by the looks he was getting when the demon thought he wasn’t looking. 

 

It was true that while they were both browsing a lot of human books about sex they didn’t try a lot of new things so far, only a couple of positions. But Aziraphale knew that Crowley has a lot of things for the angel in mind. One night after the demon returned from Belial’s lecture about something called Kinbaku, his eyes and pupils were incredibly dilated, body vibrating with lust. If he hadn’t been so on edge he would have probably tried something he had learned on Aziraphale that night but as it was he ‘only’ fucked him into the mattress and in all likelihood imagining such scenes.

 

Nothing unusual since then though. Was it possible that Crowley didn’t want to spook Aziraphale, to remind him of his time with the other demons? Or was he just preparing a scene in his mind waiting to be perfect before presenting it to the angel? Or… or is he perhaps making a sex dungeon room?

 

Oh dear, Aziraphale returned from his thoughts and found out that his hand travelled to his half hard cock. 

 

It probably had not been a good idea to think about these things in bed, where the delicious scent of his demon was so strong and where only a couple of hours ago he was riding the demon, his nipples being played with and tugged on so deliciously.

 

Oh, the hand was still there. He shouldn’t. He so _so_ shouldn’t.

 

And the traitorous other hand joined the rebellion and softly pinched his nipple! 

 

The angel moaned and gave up resisting as he started softly stroking his cock.

 

It _was_ a fact that it will be _hours_ before Crowley returns, it’s not like the demon will _ever_ find out.

 

Mmm, okay. Yesss, this was nice. So what he shall think about? Another fantasy when they return to Earth and Crowley sort of keeps ordering him around and using him for his pleasure? The fantasy where the demon made him to suck his cock under the table at the Ritz was particularly good, or the one where-

 

“ **What do you think you are doing?!** ” said suddenly Crowley’s voice in a dangerous tone.

 

Aziraphale opened his eyes to see his master standing in front of the bed, a furious expression on his face.

 

_Shit._

 

_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit..._

 

“...”

 

“Oh, no words? No prostrating yourself with ‘I’m sorry master, I will never do that again master?’ My my, I must have quite spoiled you, mustn’t I?“ 

 

“Master, I-”

 

“But you do remember that the last time I told you that the next time I will punish you, don’t you, _slave_?”

 

_Oh no, oh no, oh no no no no no._

 

“Right. I’ll be back in five minutes, have to postpone something and put a sign on my door that I’m out of office. When I return I want you kneeling by the bed,” said Crowley and miracled himself away.

 

Aziraphale let out a frustrated cry. Oh why he had to fuck up so badly?! Things were going so well and now he forced Crowley to harm him and, worse, perhaps even distrust him. The angel blinked away the tears as he slowly climbed down from the bed and knelt next to it.

 

* * *

 

Crowley quickly arranged the matters in his Hell’s office and then miracled himself to his home Office. And there he screamed in frustration.

 

“BLOODY HEAVEN! BLOODY FUCKERING HEAVEN ON A CRACKER!”

 

Really, this has been a horrible terrible day, the demons being even more obnoxious than usual, his nerves on the end of the tether, the only thing that he was looking forward to was going to home to Aziraphale! Then suddenly the spell he had created to know when Aziraphale was playing with himself - Crowley loved to watch it so now he often finished work early and watched it for some time before ‘coming home’ - out of the blue activated! And it was certainly not the time yet for the angel to do that which meant that he was breaking Crowley’s rules!

 

 _Fuck_.

 

Crowley activated his spying mirror and watched the sniffling Aziraphale.

 

The serpent leaned against his desk and put his head in his hands. He heard shuffling (Hamlet didn’t have his pad with wheels yet since Crowley and Aziraphale decided to build it by hand with what they find in the Rooms with Stuff, a nice little project of theirs) and sighed.

 

He looked at the plant, “I _have to_ punish him! But I don’t _want_ to _hurt_ him. Not like _that_.”

 

Hamlet did a complicated gesture.

 

“Oh, you mean...”

 

More complicated plant gestures.

 

“Hamlet, you are brilliant!”

 

* * *

 

Aziraphale was wiping his tears when Crowley reappeared. Fortunately he appeared to be much calmer.

 

“I’m sorry, master, please, I truly am, I will never touch myself without your permission again, please, forgive me.”

 

Crowley nodded, “Mmm, I will forgive your, however you have to be punished first.”

 

Aziraphale braced himself, “Yes, master.” Yes, he will endure the pain of caning or whipping or whatever it will be, Crowley will probably not leave him bloody and will either let him tend to his wounds or tend to his wounds himself, and _then_ the demon will forgive him and everything will be as it was, yes, good.

 

“Actually, I will let you to choose between two possible punishments.”

 

Oh?

 

“First option is more physical, there will be some pain and then you will probably writhe and beg me to stop - which I won’t. _Or_ there will be less of that, but you will lose your home privileges, no clothes, no books, no food experiments.”

 

Aziraphale gasped! That sounded absolutely horrible! No books?! He cannot have no books when now he had them in his life again!

 

“Certainly the first one, master, please don’t take away the books and other things from me, please.”

 

“You sure? You will suffer.”

 

“Yes, master, please.”

 

“Very well,” Crowley sat on the bed, “we shall start with fifteen smacks I think. Remember to count and thank me for each of them.”

 

“Yes, master.” Fifteen, that was not bad for a start. Like yeah, some whips were really nasty, such as cat o' nine tails, but he could handle fifteen. Now how shall they do that? Will Crowley miracle a hook with chains from the ceiling or will he tell Aziraphale to bend over something or should he just assume hands and knees or the floor or-

 

Crowley for some reason rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers.

 

Aziraphale found himself lying across Crowley’s lap. 

 

SMACK

 

Crowley’s palm connected with Aziraphale’s butt. Wh-

 

“Angel!”

 

“What?”

 

“Count, angel, you’re supposed to count!”

 

Really? _This_ was-

 

Crowley growled.

 

“One, thank you, master. That was a very good one. Very nice smack, thank you. Very demonly smack that was.”

 

SMACK

 

“Two, thank you, master.”

 

But really? These were those things that were supposed to-

 

SMACK

 

“Three, thank you, master.”

 

-leave him writhing and begging? Because-

 

SMACK

 

“Four, thank you, master.”

 

-these were really not. He wasn’t even sure he had ever been spanked like this, only with a hand on his backside before,-

 

SMACK

 

“Five, thank you, master.”

 

-the demons wouldn’t do something like this.

 

SMACK

 

“Six, thank you, master.”

 

Aziraphale started to feel the demon’s interest under him.

 

SMACK

 

“Seven, thank you, master.”

 

He supposed it must be a nice view for the demon, his angel in his lap, the ass having a nice red handshapes on the pale skin-

 

SMACK

 

“Eight, thank you, master.”

 

-and if Crowley truly liked the spanking it wouldn’t be that of a hardship to let the demon to spank him sometimes-

 

SMACK

 

“Nine, thank you, master.”

 

-perhaps the serpent would feel better after dealing with the bastard demons if he could spank his angel from time to time-

 

SMACK

 

“Ten, thank you, master.”

 

“Mmm, your buttcheeks are so warm, angel.” said Crowley who didn’t continue the spanking but starting kneading Aziraphale’s bottom. “Does it hurt, angel?”

 

Not really. “Uhm...”

 

Crowley snapped his fingers and an oil appeared, the one that Crowley used to rub in the bruises on Aziraphale’s hips he from time to time caused during the post-work rough sex.

 

The demon started rubbing the oil in the angel’s buttock. 

 

And ahh, since Crowley was quite generous with the oil, a couple of drops got to Aziraphale’s butthole and that was… interesting.

 

The serpent continued squeezing and caressing the tender flesh. He paused when he felt Aziraphale’s own interest against his thigh. 

 

“This is a _punishment_ , angel, you’re not supposed to enjoy this,” said Crowley but Aziraphale could hear the smirk in his voice.

 

“Sorry, master.”

 

SMACK

 

“Eleven, thank you, master.”

 

-it didn’t seem to Aziraphale that his erection would go away just because the smacking continued-

 

SMACK

 

“Twelve, thank you, master.”

 

-yes, he truly could _endure_ a couple of spankings to lift up Crowley’s mood-

 

SMACK

 

“Thirteen, thank you, master.”

 

-and other things.

 

SMACK

 

“Fourteen, thank you, master.”

 

“Angel, stop humping my leg.”

 

“Sorry, master,” Aziraphale stilled, his cheeks now having the same colour as his other cheeks.

 

SMACK

 

“Fifteen, thank you, master.”

 

Well, that was quite a punishment (was that a punishment?) - leaving them both hard. Hopefully whatever follows will deal with that.

 

“Now,” said Crowley, “lie on the bed on your back, like an ‘X’”.

 

Aziraphale did that and Crowley snapped again. The restraints appeared chaining Aziraphale to the four bedposts.

 

The demon sat on the side of the bed taking Aziraphale’s erection in his hand, slowly stroking it. _Yesss._

 

“You know, angel, I wanted to wait before introducing toys to our sex life, but you’ve been such a naughty boy...”

 

“Yes,” said Aziraphale breathlessly, “anything master.”

 

“I also didn’t much like the ones from Belial so I started to developing my own,” with a gesture a chain appeared in the demon’s hand. It was gold set with small rubies and on the ends there were… ohhhh… it was a nipple clamps chain.

 

Aziraphale wiggled happily, _yesss_ , nipple clamps was just the right thing now. … to punish him with, yes, that.

 

Crowley was though doing nothing so the angel tried to help things, “Will you adorn my nipples with it, master, please?”

 

“Sweet Satan,” muttered Crowley, did so and then returned to stroking the angel’s cock.

 

Aziraphale noticed that the pressure was much lesser that with the standard nipple clamps that he was ‘used to’. He could actually handle a little bit more. Perhaps he could convince Crowley to tug at the chain a little bit?

 

Before he had his chance to beg for it though, Crowley summoned another thing.

 

It was… a silver buttplug set with sapphires. Marvelous!

 

This time demon didn’t hesitated, lubed the plug and pushed it into Aziraphale. _Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes_!

 

“Actually,” said Crowley who again returned to the angel’s cock, “there is little more to them than it seems, but you’ll find out soon enough.” He looked at the angel, “such a wonderful picture, perhaps you would like to see yourself?”

 

A mirror appeared on the ceiling and Aziraphale saw himself, spread like an X, the gold-ruby chain on his chest and silver-sapphire plug sticking out of him, Crowley’s hand on him. Oh it was truly breathtaking, if it was possible Aziraphale hardened even more.

 

“And the last thing,” continued Crowley. _Ohhh, what it will be?_

 

“It’s invisible actually, not an object, more of a spell I developed,” the demon carried on sweetly. 

 

“Yes, master?” said Aziraphale quite looking forward to another toy. 

 

“The demons don’t have a name for it, but the closest thing the humans would call it is...”

 

“Yes, master?”

 

“...a cock ring,” finished Crowley and smiled like a snake.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Aziraphale you're so fucked... ;-)


End file.
